HalfBlood Blessing
by Shifted Illusions
Summary: Harry Potter is diagnosed with an unusual disorder in the summer after 5th year.  In the following two years he embarks on a journey to destroy Voldemort.  In that time old friendships will be strained and new ties will be forged.
1. In St Mungo's

Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

**Chapter One: In St. Mungo's**

I blinked several times trying to adjust to the harsh impersonal light and decipher what I saw as little more than varying shades of white and pale gray. I glanced quickly around the room searching for an escape, panic clutched at me, and my heart, beating allegro, attempted to jump its way into my throat. I flung out a hand blindly to find my glasses. My fingers found hardwood. My hand scuttled around the top of the side table before it found the wire frames. I put them on and with them flooded clarity of setting if not precisely situation. I took a second look around the room. It was white and clean with no windows and only one door. The bed-side table and a single padded chair were the only furnishings besides the bed. The sheets, also white, were rough, thin, and threadbare. The panic I had felt moments ago subsided, but was replaced with wariness. I didn't remember going to sleep here; I didn't even recognize the room from a previous visit. It was similar to the hospital wing at Hogwarts in its color and its smell, but I didn't recall any reason for me to be in the hospital. My mouth was dry; I hadn't seen any water so I swallowed once. It didn't help; I glanced at the side table and sat up straighter when I found an overturned glass and a pitcher of ice-cold water, sweating as if it had been there for some time. I poured myself a glass and took a sip. I set the glass down on a newspaper that I hadn't noticed earlier. I pulled it onto my lap and stared at the headline.

**Boy-Who-Lived in St. Mungo's for Rare Disorder**

I scoffed, and then nearly choked; now really that was ridiculous. Though, as I thought about it, the room would be explained, it seemed to be a hospital room. 'But me, have a rare disorder… well that would be just like me, wouldn't it,' I thought. I read on, though I was already impatient with _The Prophet._ In slightly smaller typeface the sub header claimed:

**Harry Potter Diagnosed with Half-blood Curse, Little Known**

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, collapsed during his sixteenth birthday party, July 31st. _

I glanced at the date in the corner of the page, August third. Had I been out for three days? I remembered the party at Grimmauld Place, but nothing after.

_ Friends, unnamed, rushed him to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. His condition was said to be unstable for the first day. _I squirmed at the thought of so many people fusing over me_. Specialists say that he suffers from disordine mezzo di anima. The disorder is known by many names including Half-blood Disorder, Half-blood Curse, and Half-blood Untamed. Overall the disorder is not harmful except in a few cases. The problem arises between pure wizarding blood and muggle or non-magical blood. To better explain we asked an outside specialist. He said pure bloods have the magical ability born into them, they will naturally know magic. Muggleborns have the potential but must learn to use magic. Half bloods, witches and wizards who have one pureblood parent and one muggle or muggleborn parent will have a conflict with their blood. This conflict results in a 'war' for control of the magic on or near the witch or wizard's sixteenth birthday. Most commonly the non-magical blood wins control, and they have the same abilities as they always had, they maintain control of the magic. Because the non-magical blood so commonly wins this duel, little is known of cases when magical blood wins. Reports from hundreds of years ago say the logical mind no longer guides the magic; the magic the individual wields becomes intuitive. Other reports claim there is an increase in the amount the individual can use. All say the individual eventually goes mad from the magic and disappears from society altogether. Potter's case is the first in over a hundred years to have so severely affected the well being of the individual. This reporter believes it is his traumatic past, namely the fateful night he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

I chuckled; they wouldn't even write his name. 'So, I'm in St. Mungo's, and no one is about, do they not care? What time is it anyway?' A soft tick tock caught my attention. I noticed a clock hanging on the wall; its hands read 5:30 in its red-rimmed face. 'Perhaps everyone needs a rest, that's ok,' I told myself, tipping my chin up. If I were completely honest I would have thought it hurt that no one was worried enough to brave the time in that hard uncomfortable chair. I glared at the chair; it seemed more uncomfortable, what I had thought was a cushioned seat was instead hard painted wood. 'Odd.' I gave up on gaining any more information from the paper and let it slip to the floor in a papery whoosh. I suspected the rest was only speculation anyway, since there never seemed to be any hard facts when it came to me, 'they're probably guessing what side won.' I wondered that too, my logical mind seemed in control right now, but then again I wasn't working any magic. Panic touched me again, warmth draining from my hands, 'Where is my wand?' I checked my pockets and the side table growing more and more anxious but didn't find it. It hadn't left me since June. For the first time, I noticed a drawer in the table and opened it. There were several pieces of paper floating about in the drawer but no wand. 'They must have taken it. I might have left it at Grimmauld Place.' I doubted it though; I'd carried my wand, my only protection, my only weapon, everywhere, even trips to the restroom in the middle of the night. I had hated returning to that house after the end of last year. Every inch reminded me of Sirius. I shivered, pressure collected at the end of my nose, I lifted my chin again. I had seen Remus Lupin around, though he had seemed on the verge of tears every time I had laid eyes on him, though that event was infrequent enough. 'He must hate that house as much as I do; Sirius was the last of his friends.' I had shed few tears since the end of term but every time I thought of Sirius a great lump of grief lodged itself in my throat.

For the most part, I had received and sent very little mail over the summer. Ron and Hermione, who had been at the Burrow until the third week of July, had sent almost no post. I guessed they were trying to give me time and space to deal with the grief; I'm still not sure if I was upset they hadn't written or was glad for it. It mattered little, at the moment, very little mattered.

I settled back down into the bed, resigning myself to more boring minutes waiting for people to show up. I waited, the clock ticked away the seconds. The soft clicks quickly grew loud and more irritating. I closed my eyes and plugged my ears with my fingers to block out the sound. I was still for some time and then opened an eye, the clock was still on the wall but the persistent tick tocks had stopped. Satisfied with that at least, I laced my fingers and set them on my lap. My fingers tapped out a tattoo on the knuckles of the other hand and bored once again, I waited.

I must have dozed off because the soft rasp of a bolt lock woke me. I watched the handle turn; the latch clicked and the door swung open on silent hinges. There was Remus with two cups of steaming tea. He looked haggard and wearier than I had ever seen him even in the days after full moons, even this last summer. 'What had he thought had happened to me?' His old robes hung off him seeming many sizes too large. With a wave of sympathy and regret, I realized he had probably eaten as little as I had in the last month and a half. I grinned on seeing him, even through my worry, and Remus smiled in return but it held the same grimness mine did. He walked into the room handing me one of the mugs, only then did I note how cold his fingers were, and mine, nearly frozen. Remus sat in the chair slouching with exhaustion, the cushion had returned. We sipped the honeyed tea in companionable silence, neither wishing to speak.

I twirled my empty cup in my fingers, 'were they longer, thinner?' Remus had fallen asleep not too long ago and I didn't have the heart to wake him even if I was bored enough to throw the cup like I was. Try as I might to keep my mind empty of memory, my thoughts drifted back over the summer. To avoid thoughts of Sirius, I tried to count the times I had eaten something substantial. Seven maybe eight times, no more than ten, I decided. As unhealthy as that was I couldn't say I really cared. I could tell I was worse than skinny when I examined my wrists, another result of general boredom, the examination, not skinniness. Skin and bones might have been an accurate description. I looked through the drawer again and, behold the nearly empty room offered up a mirror; I must have missed it the first time. Peering into it I took careful note of the changes the summer had wrought. My face was thinner, a slim nose, high cheekbones and bright eyes, my mother's eyes, as always. My hair had changed very little, a single constant in a changing life; it was the same shock of raven black. If anything it was wilder. Untamed, was that what I was now? If I guessed right, and I do not doubt that I did, the magical side of me had won. That would be me, abnormal in every way possible.

More time passed, and I entertained myself with flipping the cup as many times as possible before catching it. Remus had slept on through the morning; the clock said it was 9:30. I threw the cup a few more times, tossed and caught, tossed and caught, and then I twirled it on my fingers, balancing its weight. Just as I was thinking about sleeping again, it was a shorter way of passing time then staying awake and throwing a cup into the air over and over, the door opened swiftly, bounced off the wall and hit the back of the person who had backed into the opening. The noise was deafening but I refrained from putting my hands to my ears. The person who had stumbled through the door was none other than the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. The noise was coming from reporters and cameramen all yelling questions for the minister, it didn't seem like they were all about me, either. Fudge held up placating hands trying to fend off the flashes of light. Albus Dumbledore slipped past him, somehow unnoticed despite being quite tall. The minister followed on his heels, closing the door on the reporters and the noise. Silence reigned for a few moments. Then Dumbledore conjured a pair of chairs very similar to the one Remus was in. I reached over and touched Remus' shoulder. He jerked awake, the teacup rolling from his lax fingers to smash on the white tiled floor. I cringed at the noise. Dumbledore waved his wand, muttered, "reparo," and then sat in one of the chairs, levitating the repaired cup to the table next to where I had set mine.

Fudge slumped into the other chair rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Bad news, Harry, my boy, bad news," he said in that insufferable tone he used for me exclusively, "I'm sorry to tell you that your aunt and uncle are dead in an attack on your birthday."

I thought about it for a moment, 'they are dead.' It was simple as that, they are dead and I didn't feel anything. Did I feel remorse that they had died because of me? Maybe a little, if only for my fault in the matter. I acknowledged the feeling briefly and dismissed it. "And Dudley," I asked little caring about the answer.

"With his Aunt Marge," Fudge said dismissively.

I noticed the glare Dumbledore directed at Fudge. I might've bet that that was not how Dumbledore had planned on telling me, probably planning some manipulative suggestion.

Dumbledore sighed, "Harry, you have been out since your birthday party. You collapsed and Molly and Arthur brought you here. The healers have diagnosed you with half…"

"I know professor, Half-blood curse, I read about it in the paper this morning," I said as brightly as possible, just to rub at the weariness the professor must be feeling. I was not on good terms with the man and I didn't feel like mending those ties at the moment. 'Eventually, maybe.'

"Yes, Harry, that's correct," Dumbledore sounded ever so slightly impatient.

"Good, is there anything else you want me to know?"

"Yes, one more thing, you are currently in a no-magic zone. You are not able to perform magic."

"You just did, professor." I added a noticeable emphasis on the title, pouring as much insincere formality into the word as it could hold.

"Yes, because this is only a no-magic zone for you. The spell is on you."

"Is that all?"

"Almost, you will be moved back to where you were staying tomorrow assuming everything is in order. Your wand will be returned to you then."

"Thank you, headmaster." I wasn't sure I wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place; I certainly didn't intend to do so. "Minister," I added as an afterthought because that was really all he was anymore. Nodding briefly, I turned to Remus.

I listened for Dumbledore and Fudge to leave and then engaged Remus in as light a conversation as possible. When I asked who had my wand. Remus produced it from an inner pocket.

A tired half grin lit his face, a marauder's grin. "No wizard should be left defenseless," he explained while handing it over.

I cautiously steered the conversation to the Order.

"I've quit, Harry," said Remus, "I'm too tired." He sounded it and I nodded silently, after Sirius… I left the thought when my breath caught in my chest. It was then that I realized I had changed, I had prized the resistance, but now perhaps I thought Dumbledore's organization would not be a breaking force against Voldemort.

"How are you, Harry?" Remus said so softly I wasn't sure I had heard him speak at all.

"I'm dealing," I said trying to sound honest. In truth I was as bad off as Remus. "I need a holiday." Remus looked up in surprise.

"You're on holiday."

"No, I'm just not in school right now. I want a time without worries. I want peace. I want to spend time with you," I stared at Remus for a moment trying to gauge how he would take the next bit. "'Til Halloween, not go to school, not see anybody, not have to talk, and most importantly not do anything. Remus, I need this time." I pleaded for all my worth but the most Remus would give me was until term started. I hadn't really wanted to Halloween but bargains had to start somewhere. 'That was a Slytherin thought,' my mind identified, 'not that that bothers me,' I pointed out. Tomorrow, I was going to disappear.

Remus talked a little more as the evening drew on. I refused dinner, food alone turned my stomach and I was not going to eat anything sub-Hogwarts quality, so did Remus perhaps for the same reasons.

There had been silence for some time as we stewed in our own thoughts. Eventually I broke it. "Why didn't Ron or Hermione come see me?"

"They weren't allowed in. Hospitals have odd rules concerning minors, especially non-relatives."

We lapsed into silence again. I felt bad that I was going to leave my friends at the drop of a hat. When I had returned to Grimmauld Place, my friendship with Ron was not the same as it always had been, I wasn't sure why. It was probably just how much more I had aged than Ron. He still enjoyed chatting about Quidditch, and friendly matches of wizards' chess. I had become solitary, over the last year; I preferred brooding in dark corners. 'Maturity, if that's what it is,' I sighed, one long bitter breath, 'I wish it hadn't come to this.' Hermione was more aware of the world, more aware of why I was the way I was, more knowing about how I would react, how stubborn I was. I always could depend on her love and patience even when I was being stupid. I smiled the pressure was back at the tip of my nose. I had felt the splitting of the ways beginning last year and I had to follow it. I was so glad Ron had been my first friend and Hermione my second. I wondered what might've happened if I had shaken Malfoy's hand. I followed that train of thought for a long time, trying to decide if the same events would have happened at the end of every year. 'Maybe, with who I am, more likely than not.'

I woke again to the harsh light of the room I now hated. Remus had already gotten tea from upstairs, at least I had the feeling we were underground, and that he went up to get tea. The window belied that thought but really with magic I could be anywhere.

Remus handed me the mug, small comfort as our cold fingers touched. "The plan is when we get to the lobby, when I tell Albus, 'I'll see you next month,' you are going to latch onto my wrist for side by side apparation. The trick is to do it before Albus sees the trick."

"I could give you a hug, and then you could apparate out in the middle of the hug," I suggested.

"You have all the skill in planning your father ever did." Remus smiled. 'You do too,' I thought sadly, 'if you weren't so distracted by grief.'

We sipped the tea for a while longer. The door opened but not with the expected amount of noise, someone must have cleared the reporters out, I doubted they would miss an opportunity like this voluntarily. Dumbledore stepped in followed by Arthur.

"I see we are ready to go," said Dumbledore. I had dressed earlier and now was almost fidgeting with the wish to be out, to be gone. "No need to remain."

Mere minutes later we were sweeping down corridors following a nurse who I was sure had a map. There was no way one person would know every turn in this maze. Eventually, we found an empty waiting area where we stopped and the nurse left us.

Dumbledore turned to face us, "Harry, you are going back to headquarters with Arthur." I nodded imitating obedience.

Remus broke in, "I really must be on my way, good bye, Albus. Arthur, I'll see if I can stop by for dinner some time. I'll see you in a month." I embraced Remus in a tight hug and we were gone in a soft pop.

_Author's Note: I first published this story several years ago under the same title. I managed to write nine chapters before I seemingly abandoned the story. However, I only abandoned updating it; the story is complete, if in need editing and polishing. So I will try to update with a new chapter every three to seven days. There is no guarantee that I will actually manage to keep to this schedule. I make no promises._

_I hope that you enjoy my story._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	2. The Return to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Two: The Return to Hogwarts

I spent the next month in peace with Remus. We stayed in a cottage Remus had. I wasn't sure of the location but it was nice, away from anywhere recognizable, just a quiet field and forest far from civilization. The time passed at a leisurely pace. The full moon came around the middle of the month and Remus retrieved the Wolfsbane potion from Snape and locked himself into the basement of the little cottage for that night. I did not sleep that night; I desperately wished I could have been with him. I swore that I would be able to keep him company for that time whatever it took.

Little else happened over the month that we lived in solitude; though my attitude changed drastically. If I had ever cared what people thought of me, I didn't anymore. The few times we had gone out into the wizarding or muggle worlds I had dressed to shock, with black clothing, studded belt, wrist bands, and collar, hair spiked and dyed; it was only show. I found it was even fun to have people stare at how I was dressed as opposed to the scar on my forehead. I left it un-glamoured and no one noticed. Observant, the wizarding public is not. I preferred black clothing and it seemed to lend itself nicely to my 'wildness,' as I liked to call it, the disorder had caused. I guess I became bold. Term was due to start at the end of the week, far too soon in my opinion, but I had promised Remus I would go back.

Earlier, the minister had granted me permission to use magic over the summer as long as the other students didn't know. His true motivations were unknown to me and I suspected some arm twisting was going on somewhere. Since my stay in St. Mungo's, I had started to use magic for menial tasks. I used spells to heat water for tea and summon items from their shelves. The spells with incantations and wand movements I had practiced for my five years of magical schooling felt unnatural, awkward, unstable and unpredictable. One time I had been heating water and flashed it to vapor in less time than it took me to think 'hot tea.' I fumbled through those hard-learned spells. Eventually I deviated from what I had been taught about wands and spell-casting and started experimenting in the third week of my stay. I left out the waving and flicking that my teachers had insisted on. It had made it easier but it was still forced. I had made little progress past that and had been stuck since then because without the verbal incantation my wand didn't work at all. At least, not that I could manage, though I knew nonverbal spells were possible. I had given up and continued using the words to use magic.

I slumped into an armchair with a cup of tea, steaming, in my fingers. It was close to midnight, I hadn't kept a normal sleep pattern and now, with school around the corner, I almost regretted it. I was immensely frustrated that magic wasn't working like it always had, frustrated and afraid that I had lost something that made me who I was, something I needed. I drained the cup and peered down at the dregs, grateful Trelawney wasn't there to read them. I set the cup on the table next to the chair with clattering carelessness. I stared at the cup, I wished I had more tea; I pictured it, the curling steam and dark liquid, I convinced myself that it was so. At first I wasn't sure my tired eyes weren't deceiving me, (wishing is not how magic works) but after a moment I was sure of the steam curling above the rim of the cup.

"Remus," I hissed at the man in the chair opposite me, "Remus, look at my cup." Remus did.

"Didn't you drain it just a moment ago?"

I nodded grinning, "Yeah, I did."

"What did you do? I didn't hear you say anything…"

"I didn't," I stated. "I told myself it was full and it was."

"Will you top mine off?" Remus grinned more teasing than serious. I stared at the cup, willing it full and it was. We stared at it for a moment and then I jumped up with a cry of joy. This magic I could do. This was imagination and willpower, two things my childhood had cultivated.

"See you in the morning Remus." I left the room.

I slept until noon the next day even though my classmates had had to get up early to catch the train. I had convinced Remus to apparate me to the gates in time for the welcoming feast. Remus had only agreed when I reminded him he'd have to get up early too if I were to take the train. Before opening my eyes I told myself a mug of tea was sitting on my desk, scalding hot. There it was just as though Remus had brought it in for me. I got up and with another thought I was dressed in my robes, finely cut from lightweight fabric. I grinned at the mirror; it showed me a healthier version of myself, unsurprisingly, my appetite still had not returned. I cared little, 'people will see what I want them to,' I thought, shrugging.

After my last afternoon alone, well except for Remus, I was sorry I hadn't begged harder for an entrance at the Halloween feast, it certainly would have been nicely dramatic. It was almost time to be off; my trunk was packed though I had to close my eyes to convince my belongings that they were really in the trunk and not where I had left or misplaced them over the month. That was how I thought about the magic now (it had taken little effort to change the concept from wand-waving to whatever this was;) my imagination supplied the picture or outcome and the magic seemed to do the rest.

"Come, Harry you'll miss your cue if you don't hurry up," said Remus who was standing at the door, as if he couldn't just apparate from anywhere.

"I'm here and I don't have a cue I just burst through the doors whenever I get there," I muttered as I summoned my trunk from the other room. I wrapped my fingers (I swear they were longer) around Remus' wrist. "Let's go."

I stumbled upon 'landing,' even with the number of times I had apparated it always set me off balance; portkeys were worse, I never stayed on my feet with those. I found my balance, brushed off my robes and looked up. We stood in front of the wrought iron gates of Hogwarts.

"Goodbye Remus, see you at Christmas at the latest."

"See you, Harry." Remus gave me a crushing hug and I slipped between the bars of the gate, off up the cobbled road to the castle. Leaping up the stone steps, I wondered briefly if the doors might be locked; I told myself they weren't and they weren't. I slipped through them, remembering every other time I had entered or left through these doors. The cavernous entrance hall wasn't as impressive as it once had been. The sound from the great hall echoed softly in the vastness. Dumbledore's voice could be heard as I approached the double doors; it was weary, resigned and sad. Surely, he had figured out that I was with Remus. Remus had told him it was me that had apparated both of us away and then after wishing him well and telling him not to worry I had departed. Surely he did not trust Remus so much as to believe that. He knows I am willing and capable of doing such, but Remus is not a good liar.

"…may have noticed an empty seat at the Gryffindor table. Yes, Mr. Harry Potter is missing. No one knows of his whereabouts or well being. He vanished about a month ago, but don't fret we will find him; few people have escaped the ministry search parties…" 'They have the ministry searching for me?' I was shocked that Dumbledore would even tell the ministry.

I heard another voice as I held my ear to the door, I guessed it might have been a Ravenclaw seventh year, "yeah, everybody caught but that Sirius Black." My breath caught in my throat. Sirius' death still hurt, but much less after the time with Remus.

Finding my breath again, I steeled my nerve and flung open the doors as dramatically as I could. I imagined a menacing figure, wind whipping about him and a shadowy cloak, as I stepped into the hall. The floating candles flickered; I made a few drop onto the tables for effect. I glided between the two middle tables, face obscured; people turned to stare at the dark shadow of a man. I held the picture of that figure as me and the wind played around me, rustling the tablecloths and whipping my dark cloak behind me. Once I reached the front of the room to stand before the head table, I set my feet and folded my arms across my chest.

"Call off the search parties, old man, I'm back."

I turned to face the hall; eyes watched me from all tables. Gryffindors showed some amount of shock. The Hufflepuffs, at the next table over, shared anxious glances with each other and many were leaning away from the front of the hall. Ravenclaws seemed surprised but were mostly uninterested. Whispers ran up and down the Slytherin table and spread slowly across to the others. I glided to the Gryffindor table and sat by one of the freshly sorted first years. The little boy had light brown hair and pale eyes; I could hear that his stomach was growling. With a thought I conjured a roll and split it holding half out to the boy while taking a bite out of the other. The boy took it out of my hand carefully as though he were afraid to touch me, or offend me. He took a bite out of the roll and nodded his thanks. Dumbledore stood again to continue his speech. He talked about new rules and new security measures. I didn't listen. When Dumbledore finally finished the feast appeared in the golden serving dishes. People dug into the meal, starving after the long train ride. Half way through the meal a folded note appeared in front of me. I opened it and read in the loopy unmistakable handwriting of the headmaster:

_Please join me in my office after dinner._

_Headmaster Dumbledore_

_P.S. I like Toadstool Creams_

I shook my head at the note. Pen and paper materialized out of nowhere and I scribbled my reply. I was not playing that game; I was not going to be treated like that. My answer was short.

_No_.

I folded the note sent it to the head table and had it flick Dumbledore's nose for his attention. When Dumbledore looked up, the note unfolded itself so the word could be read and then fire slowly consumed the edges; paper falling to ashes on Dumbledore's plate. It may have been childish but I had little difficulty consoling my conscience about the act. I went back to enjoying my dessert. The little boy shifted back and forth on his seat and then nudged my elbow.

"M-my name's William Hockfield."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Harry Potter."

"Are you the person the headmaster was talking about?"

"Yes, I am."

"He said you disappeared from St. Mungo's a month ago."

"I did."

During our conversation dinner had ended and Dumbledore stood up to say a few more things; I didn't pay attention. Then the student body got up and headed for their dorms. I stayed with the first years; Hermione was leading them, as she was a Prefect again this year. Ron had a badge on his robes as well but it had the tiny form of a broomstick on it, not a Prefect then. I tracked down the other badge, it was pinned on Neville. That decision made me smile, it might have been mine if I had not disappeared, but I had never wanted it. And Neville was a good choice for the job. We climbed numerous sets of stairs and finally reached Gryffindor tower, home for so many years.

Hermione's voice rang above the first years' heads. "This is the entrance to the common room. The password to get in is virtue." The portrait of the fat lady swung open behind her. They filed through the hole and into the common room I skirted around the edge of the crowd and leapt up the stairs. The sixth years' dorm was empty; everyone was still in the common room catching up with friends. I transfigured my robes into something more comfortable, drew the curtains around my bed and attempted to go to sleep. 'Why did I always stay up late at Remus' house? Why? Why?' I listened as the other boys came in. They went to sleep shortly after, but I was still awake in the wee hours of the morning.

_Author's Note: I have to say that I was impressed by how quickly I received feedback from you readers. I do appreciate it. _

_In regards to leaving comments in your reviews about editing issues: Firstly, I would like you to know that it is useful and I am grateful for it. I have read most of the sections in this story at least twenty times. Sometimes those rereads were merely for a content check, or to make sure that I hadn't said something that would be confusing in regards to the story arc. The other times were grammatical edits. Like with any author I'm sure there are places that I missed or didn't consider as carefully as I should especially since in my head I knew what I meant. Secondly, I try very hard to craft each sentence so that it is readable _and _conveys my precise meaning. This chapter and the one before it, I read aloud to myself to make sure that I hadn't missed crucial errors that would confuse the meaning or fall out of the character's voice. So since that has been stated I would like to ask you to do two things when you point out these types of errors: I would like you to quote from my text the one or two sentences where the error occurred and then if applicable, (and it won't necessarily be) explain why my prose may have implied something I didn't mean. _

_I ask this because it makes my editing job easier if I know exactly why I lost you or you lost me. Please keep in mind that I consider myself a conscientious writer and I seek to tell stories in the clearest manner I can. To do that I sometimes feel that it's absolutely necessary for me to break particular grammar rules into tiny pieces and then drop them out my window. This will happen frequently in this story (in small ways) because this story is voiced in first person and those choices are often how the characters distinguish themselves from the crowd. However that does not always mean that I am right to do this, but it is sometimes a deliberate choice stylistically. Thank you for considering this and as always I love to hear your input._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	3. A Truce

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Three: A Truce

I was still awake in the morning or so it felt. I was unsure if I had slept at all. I got up despite protesting limbs. With a thought I was dressed. Drifting out the door I summoned my books and quill from my trunk. I studied the quill; the feather was ragged and bent strangely halfway up like my grip had been too tight once. I closed my eyes and when they opened I held a muggle pen in my hand. 'No more blots for which I have to rewrite the entire page.' I glided through the hallways almost silent. The great hall was deserted at this hour. The food hadn't even been sent up from the kitchens. That was fine; I wasn't hungry. I made a few of the candles drift closer, the ceiling was still half glittering with stars and didn't provide enough light by which to read.

I had found a book about the Animagus transformation in Remus' house and set about reading it for the second time. The lighter than expected book was vague in how you figured out which animal you would turn into. I hoped that I would be a large animal so I could run easily with the werewolf. I hadn't told Remus about the book, I planned on making it a surprise for Christmas if I could manage it by then. I still wasn't sure about working magic in class. Using my wand would be a hindrance but be suspect if I didn't wave it about as the rest of my classmates would. I wasn't sure if I could split my concentration like that, not with as little practice as I had. Students had started trickling in; most were Ravenclaws. A few Slytherins snaked their way through the growing crowd, the first years were the first to arrive from Gryffindor with Hermione at their head. They grouped themselves along the end closest to the Head table. William smiled and waved at me and Hermione sat down at my elbow.

"This is awfully early for you to be up," she said with a hint of question in her voice.

I muttered something about going to bed early. The half-truth came easily to my tongue. I was glad Hermione still held concern for me but the split was there. Perhaps it was better that way no more danger, no fear that she would come to harm because of me. I grinned widely for no reason at all.

Hermione peered at my eyes, her focus switching from one to the other. She shook her head slightly and then smiled. 'What did she see?' I let the candles that had been floating about me drift away, flickering in the breeze of movement.

Most of the hall was filled now. I sipped my tea, glancing about the space. The sixth year boys hadn't shown themselves yet, not that that was unexpected. With just enough time before class to eat breakfast, Ron walked in laughing with the rest of his dorm mates. He plopped down on my other side. Halfway through saying 'good morning' he yawned, already reaching for the serving spoons.

"Not going to eat Harry?" Ron said still chewing his previous bite.

"Not hungry," I said.

McGonagall passed out our schedules. I glanced down at mine. I still couldn't believe I'd managed to wriggle into Snape's class, surely there had been a mistake, but I wasn't going to correct it. Thankfully, Potions wasn't until Tuesday. Starting Monday morning was Charms. It was with the Slytherins. Ron had noticed this as well and groaned loudly.

"We're always with the Slytherins."

Hermione said something about inter-house relationships. Ron stared at her pointedly.

"I'm off to class," I said standing gracefully, "see you there."

I set off through the corridors, arriving at the Charms classroom before Flitwick, the door was locked when I tried the knob. 'It's not locked just stuck' I revised. I applied more pressure to the door. It gave. The classroom was much the same, maybe neater than the end of last year but the same stacks of pillows still lined the walls, dozens of feathers stood erect in jars. I was sure they counted enough to feather a flock. Books created a stair to the chair behind the desk. More balanced on the seat to give added height so the tiny professor could peer over the desk. I slid into a chair near the middle of the room. The latch clicked open and I turned around. Malfoy stood in the doorway.

I stood and swept over to the shocked Malfoy, 'no doubt surprised to see me in class so early.' I held out my hand. "Truce," I said, shocked at my own words. Then to be more convincing, though I was being honest in my offer, I added, "I don't have the energy to fight with you."

Malfoy hesitated then took my hand. That was the moment Ron walked in, just in time to see Malfoy and me shaking hands with me grinning and Malfoy with a twist to the corners of his mouth, almost a smile. Ron huffed and sat as far away from me as the desks would allow. Hermione rushed in puffing as though she had run across the castle. She might have if the first years had asked her to show them the way to their class. I looked at my watch; she still had ten minutes to get to class and with all the passageways we knew she could have strolled to class and still made it. Hermione looked at me. Cocked her head at seeing Malfoy standing still a little gob smacked nearby and choose to sit by Ron.

I sat down in my chair. Malfoy chose one across the aisle from me. More students came in; they sat close to their friends. Neville with his Prefect badge on his breast, sat next to me, but no one graced Malfoy's presence. Class started. It was as I expected; a lecture about N.E.W.T.s followed by notes that left me grateful for the pen and not having to dip it in the ink well every nine words. A scrap of paper darted across the aisle and came to a shaking halt before me.

_Why the change of heart? _Wrote Malfoy's elegant hand.

With a thought an answering note appeared in front of Malfoy's hand. _I told you I don't have the energy to fight with you. Everyone too scared to sit next to you? _Malfoy puzzled over my chicken scratch handwriting.

Both of us had stopped taking notes, Malfoy sent a response flitting across the intervening space with a muttered word. _No one sits with me, Potter, because I refused the Dark Mark this last summer they've all been told by their parents not to talk to me. _

With another thought my note appeared. _Call me Harry we're peers and not enemies. Why did you refuse?_

A short note flew towards me; I caught it up before it could settle. Unfolding it I read the single word. _Pride, _it said. I nodded ending the written conversation. It made sense, I had never been able to picture Draco, that sounded odd in my thoughts, bowing and scraping, and certainly not kissing the hems of someone else's' robes. I was surprised his father did it.

Class ended shortly after. I fumbled my schedule out of my pocket. Transfiguration was next with the Slytherins. I grinned.

Hermione caught me up in the hall.

"Why aren't you in uniform?"

"Uh..." I glanced down at my robes, black but they didn't have the Hogwarts crest on the breast. I wasn't wearing my tie either. "I'll just go change."

"Run, Harry or you'll be late," Hermione advised.

I jogged around the next corner heading towards the tower. I came to a halt and glanced around. After seeing no one was about I changed my robes. It was harder than making the candles float to me but not as hard as packing my trunk had been. I walked to class no worries about being late; Hermione and Ron were already there sharing a desk. Hermione motioned to me to sit by her opposite from Ron. McGonagall was at her desk. I sat down as she stood up. This lesson too, started with a lecture about N.E.W.T.s.

The rest of the day was straight forward enough. Classes all began with the same lecture. 'Study hard for N.E.W.T.s. Start now so you don't have to cram.'

Ron continued to give me the cold shoulder but at dinner he finally spoke to me.

"Hey," he said hesitantly, "uh... Hermione says she won't talk to me unless I at the very least ask you what the handshake between you and Malfoy was all about."

"Draco and I called a truce; I don't have the energy to fight with him and Voldemort." Ron flinched. "I'm beyond the petty schoolyard bickering."

"Well, ok I guess but I don't have to be friends with him." It was a very reasonable response from him considering the history between the two.

"No, Ron, but I'm not going to help you out when you get in a fight with him."

The conversation dropped off from there. I didn't eat anything and left early, heading for the library. I already had an essay to write for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Carson. I hadn't been overly impressed with her, but she was far better than Umbridge, slugs for teachers would have been better. I rubbed the back of my hand not recognizing why. Carson wasn't as good as Remus had been. She knew the book stuff but she hadn't done it herself. I doubted she'd come out all that well if you dumped her in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, though to be fair she probably would live through the experience.

The library was mostly empty; the students were all still at dinner. I collected a stack of books for my research and found a table. The topic was 'how to subdue a dangerous creature of your choice without causing it grievous injury (creatures must have a XXX rating or greater in the book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them.)' I wasn't sure which creature I would choose. The essay was due this Thursday so I didn't have a long time to decide.

Draco came waltzing into the area; he didn't have quite the same air of confidence he had once held but he did hold himself as if he did. That same air was the one I had always labeled as arrogant. I still did but it was no longer an irritating attitude, mainly because I realized that I walked through the halls with a similar posture.

He came and sat down across the table from me. "You have the book I want." He pulled out a volume on vampires.

"Take it I was just looking for ideas." I flipped through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. A lethifold looked interesting. 'Maybe I should stick with a basilisk; I, at least, had dealt with one personally. It would make the writing easier, certainly.' We worked in companionable silence; I was mostly finished with the first draft of my essay. I had stuck with the basilisk so I got to skip over the research part, mostly. Draco was wading through another book. He had chosen lethifolds when I had commented on them earlier. I got up, said goodbye and left. Banishing my bag to my trunk in the dorm, I walked down a few staircases. I wandered about for a while just enjoying the quiet.

The first weeks of school went well. I spent my free time, what little I had between schoolwork and Quidditch practice (which was scheduled no less than four times a week, less than Wood but not relaxed by any standard,) in the library or just walking the halls. I also spent time researching Animagus transformations. I had snuck into the Restricted section under my invisibility cloak several times to search those shelves. I had spent some time trying to make myself invisible without the use of the cloak by telling myself I _was_ wearing it. The trick had worked but it was weak and concentration was required, I wasn't sure if I could keep the trick up for long. To class I wore black robes and then held the illusion that they bore the crest that marked the uniform. No teacher had called me out on it yet. I had practiced splitting my concentration and could easily hold up the pretences of waving a wand and creating the desired effects. A few of the professors had commented on my eyes being closed, but they didn't find it terribly odd (perhaps it was not while learning a new spell.) At least, no one had told me to do otherwise. Potions class was better than it had been in the past; I sat with Draco as he didn't have a partner. Hermione worked with Lavender when we were set to work together.

The rift had grown wider. Ron had figured out at long last that he was head over heels in love with Hermione and had asked her to the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. I found I didn't mind being alone. The only thing I really had in common with Ron was Quidditch. I still talked to them during meals but we weren't as close as we once had been. I had made a tentative friendship with Draco, we got on well enough having more in common than expected and had also grown closer to Neville though I only really talked to him during class. Draco and I often met up in the library to study and invariably sat next to each other in class when Gryffindor and Slytherin were together. It earned us more than a few betrayed looks from classmates.

As the weeks passed I found that working the magic was easy and I felt like I could do anything with it. That in turn made it easier; with the confidence I was far better than with just hope. My strength grew and I discovered that in Transfiguration I could easily follow a logical progression to the end product, and in all classes it was also easier making small steps not one big one. I still hadn't eaten more than a bite or two each day, that and my cup of tea. People would say I seemed to have a mug in my hand almost all the time or floating along as I strode down the halls, I didn't notice it had become habit over the month with Remus.

_Author's Note: The last part of this chapter and the next are more closely related but together this chapter and the next were too long. The next chapter is from a new point of view which is another reason I broke it here, but that is also why I'm posting them in the same afternoon._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	4. A Look into a Mirror

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Four: A Look into a Mirror

I had started to catch on to Harry's odd behavior. First, I thought it had been losing Sirius, but after awhile I could draw no other conclusion than that the behavior was stemming from something else; he should have readjusted, at least enough to eat something if not emotionally, but he still didn't eat. I had watched him in class; how he closed his eyes to perform spells. He'd never done that before this year; I knew that much. He was too wary to close his eyes, and after last June I doubted he would ever feel comfortable being vulnerable in any way. More disturbing was when his eyes were open. One eye, normally the right, was unfocused, rather like when I had seen him that first morning. The problem appeared to be getting worse, but it never seemed to bother Harry. He spent more time alone, not so odd in and of itself, but studying, that was certainly odd for him, and with Malfoy. I didn't exactly object, but I didn't understand how Harry had so easily set aside all their past quarrels. That definitely wasn't like him. Also, he always seemed to have a teacup clutched in his hand or nestled in the air within reach; he seemed dependant on it. I couldn't let his habits destroy him; not when he had a good portion of the wizarding world looking to kill him. I loved him too much.

At dinner, when Harry got up, I followed trying to be subtle; I'm sure he knew I was there. He led me to the library where he sat down at a table and pulled out several books, summoning others. I hovered in indecision and then steeling my nerve sat down. Dumbledore was so right in giving those points to Neville for standing up to us in our first year.

Jumping in head first I said, "You've been acting strange lately."

"How lately?" Harry knew exactly what I was asking about but I could tell he wasn't prepared to share. 'Too bad, I'll make him, he can't do this alone.'

I swallowed; he was harder to talk to than before. "Since school started."

"Exactly what did they tell you about me when I was in St. Mungo's?" There was that casual adult tone, like it was really none of my business but he would humor me.

"Um..." I thought back for a moment, "only that we couldn't visit, you'd be back soon, and that you were fine."

"I have a disorder," he said in a voice that was half boasting, his grin a little loopy. That unnerved me, 'a disorder?' I indicated that he should continue. "It's called Half-blood's Disorder, Half-blood's Curse, and less commonly, Half-blood Untamed." He searched his pockets, and pulled out a newspaper clipping.

I read it; the date was August third, 'had he kept it so long?' "Let me guess the magic blood won," I said, it was obvious; he had changed too much for non-magical blood to control him. He nodded; I shook my head and laughed under my breath, 'typical.'

"So what led you on?" he asked like it had been a game.

"The tea, you never drank any before, your eyes shut while casting spells, your solitary habits, and you eat next to nothing."

"The eating is mostly since," Harry paused, swallowing, "Sirius. And the tea," this time he smiled sadly, "is Remus' habit. The rest is the disorder. Here do you have a mirror?"

I dug through my bag. After a moment I produced the one I had carried since 2nd year.

"Hold it so you can see me in it."

I turned it holding it out to one side. I could do no more than gasp and clap one hand to my mouth. I looked at him, thin and pale but not concerning-ly so, and then the reflection, boney and gaunt, his eyes startlingly alive compared to the rest of him, and back again. What bothered me most was that his reflection looked natural, as though that was what might be considered healthy for a wizard like him; that I could not comprehend so I dismissed it as another of his illusions. How could I have let this slip past me? Why had the fact that I had not seen him eat since term started leave me undisturbed; had I neglected my friendship with him so much, or was it he who had crafted his image to stave off concern? Who had he become without me seeing?

"Harry!" I hissed, my focus remained on his eyes in the mirror, so bright, and his hair was wilder than I had ever seen it. He held himself with pride and cockiness almost as though he didn't know about his condition. Or didn't care! My heart moved my body before my mind was consulted and I was halfway out of my seat to drag him to the hospital wing. "Harry, do you know how unhealthy that is?" I pointed at the mirror. I wanted to dash around the table to shake him or hug him, I didn't know which.

"Hello, Draco," Harry grinned as I whipped around to see the blond, "I may assume you saw the reflection?"

Draco nodded. I frowned, planning. "Harry, this is serious, you could die if you continue like this. You will die if you continue." Draco nodded in agreement with me.

"Oh side with her. Just don't help drag me off to the hospital wing like I know she's planning. That would most certainly violate our truce."

I opened my mouth to argue and then shut it. I had been planning to do just that. In that second, I decided to go to Professor Dumbledore. Harry had already turned to a potions essay that he had gotten out. Draco too was pulling work from his schoolbag, as if the matter was nothing. I got up, muttered about finding Ron, and left. I didn't head to the common room though. Instead I found the corridor with the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. I had started guessing candy passwords when Professor McGonagall came sweeping down the hall, clearly on business. She glanced at me and whispered the password to the gargoyle which revealed the spiral staircase. She beckoned me up the stairs. Knocking sharply on the door McGonagall looked at me, taking in my slightly upset expression.

We entered. "Albus, Miss Granger seems to have something important to ask you."

They both looked at me. "Uh... Headmaster do you have a pensieve? I need to show you something."

Albus flicked his wand in the direction of a cabinet. "Here," a pensieve settled on his desk. I stepped forward, pulled my wand out of my pocket, touched it to my temple, and dragged a silvery strand out, dropping it into the pensieve. I stirred it a few times before tapping the rim twice. I knew how to use the pensieve because of a paper I had written for class. The memory played out above the bowl in silvered colors. We watched it in silence up until my memory self saw Harry's reflection. McGonagall gasped, her breath hissing in. Dumbledore opened his mouth then shut it, teeth clicking. Neither said anything until the memory me got up and the scene dissolved into the bowl.

"How did he act?"

"When? After I told him this was bad? It was as if he didn't know or maybe he didn't care. Doesn't magic reflect the wielder's health? His magic must be extremely weak."

Dumbledore nodded. McGonagall was halfway to the door clearly out to find Harry. "Minerva, it's late now, let's not disturb Harry at this time."

"Albus, did you see how awful he looked, he can't possibly do some of the things I've seen him do in class, he has more than James' share of talent in transfiguration. If he's that unhealthy how could he manage it?"

"Harry is in bad shape. I believe he is living on his magic. Little is known about wild wizards, the ones with the disorder..." Dumbledore's words faded away.

"Albus, what are you going to do about it?"

"We'll ask him to come up to the hospital wing in the morning, he'll be less likely to resist in front of the school. He doesn't like people fussing."

"And if he puts up a fight as he threatened to do when Hermione was thinking about taking him to Pomfrey?"

"Force," Albus looked at her, "he's powerful but against four teachers he's unlikely to put up a fight with the odds."

McGonagall nodded, her lips a straight line as though she doubted his words.

'Harry's going to hate me for this,' I thought, 'he'll forgive me, eventually.'

"Minerva, find Snape, and Carson, tell them to meet me here, in half an hour. Hermione it's late you should return to your dorm."

"Goodnight, Professors." I said, meekly and turned to the door.

_Author's Note: I feel like I should say something about what I've done to Harry. Eating Disorders are serious conditions. I don't want anyone to think that I am treating them lightly; that is not my intent. Here, however, I am using the condition as a plot device._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	5. A Yellow Eye

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Five: A Yellow Eye

I didn't sleep well the night after telling Hermione. It was comforting to know that she and Draco knew, but I worried what Hermione might do with the information. I would have no patience with the professors or the mediwitch if they did anything to me. I had never enjoyed being messed with and the feeling had not ebbed; it had grown. If she went to the professors I would end up in the hospital wing force fed mush or whatever they did, for the next four months, longer perhaps, and even if they didn't do that, they certainly wouldn't leave me alone. And wouldn't that be the perfect opportunity for Dumbledore to finally corner me? I wasn't fond of the idea and I would most certainly fight the occurrence. Hermione was right though; I was willing to agree that my state was far from healthy at all.

I shifted on to my side; light was already filtering through the gaps in the bed curtains. I decided there was no point in lazing about in bed, so I got up, dressed, and left. The great hall was empty at this hour, the candles burning not as brightly as during common meals. I debated whether or not to sit down at Gryffindor table or not. Few of my housemates ever talked to me anymore though that might be more my fault then their aversion since I tended to make myself scarce. William said hello at most meals and I exchanged a few quiet words with him often enough; despite his quiet demeanor he was far bolder than any of his classmates. I turned left rather than right and sat at the Slytherin table near one end. Draco would sit next to me though most everyone else would try to leave at least a few chairs between themselves and me. I conjured myself a cup of tea and warmed my cold fingers against it. The days had turned freezing sooner than they had in years past. October had never been so cold as far as I could remember. I made my cloak thicker to ward off the hall's chill then summoned my book on Animagi and started reading where I had left off last time. Soon students started to file into the room. The Slytherins were upset at where I was sitting, not that I expected different, but they didn't protest. That was curious considering my past as opposing seeker. I had never lost to Slytherin and had often caught the snitch right under their seeker's nose. Draco came in carrying himself with pride regardless of his current standing among his house members. He stumbled when he saw me immersed in a book at his table. The Gryffindors didn't notice. I had missed enough meals that my absence wasn't suspect. Hermione came in wringing her hands, worry etched on her face. Suddenly I was very glad I had chosen to sit where I was. It would take much longer for them to locate me if I wasn't where they expected. I briefly considered leaving all-together. Draco sat down, but empty seats surrounded us as the great hall filled. Soon most everyone was in attendance for breakfast; the teachers didn't seem anxious but I decided it might be better if I appeared invisible at least to them. Snape swept in from a side door; he spoke in Dumbledore's ear before sitting himself. I was slowly growing suspicious of Hermione having told.

I forgave her.

"Draco," I hissed to him, "what do you think the teachers might do if they knew what Hermione does about me." I didn't worry about people overhearing. I had told myself no one could hear us therefore they couldn't, strain as they might. Even so, I kept my voice low.

"Most likely take you by force to the hospital wing," Draco whispered back while sneering at a second year who sat only four seats away.

"That's as much as I thought."

"I agree with Hermione, your state is extremely dangerous."

"Yes, yes I know anyone else would be on the brink of death and would already be in the hospital wing, weak as a new hatched bird."

"Why can't you ever be normal?"

"Just special I guess," I said in a sour undertone though actually I had begun to enjoy not being normal.

"How do you still have the energy to be bitter? I'm healthier than you by a long shot and you still outstrip me."

"Magic," I suggested shrugging.

Dumbledore made a gesture to silence the hall so he could make an announcement. He coughed a couple of times scanning the crowd.

"Where is Mister Harry Potter this morning?"

The Gryffindors looked up and down their table in amazement. They really hadn't noticed my absence. Hermione looked green around the edges. She perched on the edge of the bench ready to bolt. Then a Slytherin decided to betray my invading presence at her table. The third year stood up and pointed in my direction. I kept up my shield of invisibility, happy I had worked on accomplishing that trick. I regretted not making myself invisible to everyone but Draco.

In a shrill voice she said, "Headmaster he's over here at our table."

Dumbledore scanned the table and looked back at the little girl. "I'm afraid I don't see him, Miss Kugler."

"He's sitting right next to Malfoy, sir."

Dumbledore looked at Draco who went slightly pink under the scrutiny and shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry I still don't see him."

"He's there." several Slytherins nodded.

"Mr. Potter, I suggest you drop your selective shield. It will make this much easier for you."

"I'm not sure I will, there is so much more freedom being invisible, as I'm sure you know, Dumbledore," my voice came from the other side of the hall.

"Sir," said the little girl, "he is still sitting where I told you." 'What a teacher's pet.'

"Mr. Potter enough nonsense, please."

I dropped the shield. "Shame," I said in a voice that reverberated in the vast space, "I so enjoy games." I sighed sadly. "I suppose she told you then?" With those words I dropped the disguise showing my pale gaunt face, thin frame which my clothing only accentuated, and my wild raven hair. A camera flashed from across the hall. I rolled my eyes, 'Creevey.' I let the camera flash I could always destroy the film at a later date if I chose.

Dumbledore stood stock-still, he had not expected me to make a scene; I had never enjoyed it. He watched as I strolled over to the front of the Hall. Perhaps this was the first time Dumbledore was unsure of what to do.

"Will you come with us quietly?"

"Depends on the definition, I certainly won't say anything," I said grinning evilly. I saw Draco stand supportively out of the corner of my eye. Dumbledore sighed. He waved his wand silently. I shifted to a prouder stance, 'you can't touch me,' I thought. Purple light shot out of Dumbledore's wand sprinting towards me until it hit me in the chest. Nothing happened. Then Dumbledore's chair vanished. The old wizard fell to the ground.

"All's fair in war," I said.

"I hope you don't consider me an enemy, Harry."

"I'd prefer Mr. Potter, thank you very much."

* * *

I watched as Snape and McGonagall helped the headmaster to his feet. The three of them cast spells towards Harry. None of the three had any affect except to make him chuckle to himself. The light of the spells seemed to fade as soon as it came within a few feet of Harry. Creevey's camera continued to flash. It irritated me but Harry left it. Perhaps he really didn't care about news anymore though he always had; at least he had always wanted to keep the damage under control. No, he probably knew the consequences better than I did, and I knew the wizarding public's fickleness; they'd call for his arrest, at least the more shrill voices would, others would probably titter about Harry usurping Voldemort's place as Dark Lord. And that would probably end-up as a side-note on the Letters to the Editor page which would cause its own cascade of supposings. The professors continued their spell casting, Snape and McGonagall creating a distraction, not that it worked, while Dumbledore delved into deeper and deeper magic. Nothing fazed Harry and the other students were held in shock.

Harry looked at his watch, "I'm sorry to cut this short professor, but classes start in a few minutes." Dumbledore looked winded, and Snape and McGonagall both were breathing heavily. Harry turned and left the great hall. The students started to move, but Dumbledore stopped them.

"Classes are canceled for today," he panted.

The students left to go to their dorms, the library or outside to enjoy the last of the year's sunshine. The professors waited for instructions. I followed the straggling students out and headed to where I knew Harry's feet would take him. I saw him pass the end of the hall I was walking down; he had replaced his disguise — I could tell that much even from this distance. I trotted to catch up with him. We walked in silence, each of us thinking over the repercussions of this morning's event. I followed just behind Harry's shoulder letting him lead. He strode down corridors until he came before the portrait of the trolls in tutus. There he paced back and forth until a door appeared. He held it open for me and then entered after me. The room was dark except for a flickering fire. Two armchairs stood in front of it. Harry sank into one of them shaking. He conjured a cup of tea and sipped from it. He seemed more exhausted then he had expected.

"How did you do that?"

"Magic," said Harry unhelpfully.

I sighed and decided to change the subject because I knew Harry wouldn't talk about this morning. "I've seen you studying the Animagus transformation, will you help me if you ever figure it out yourself."

"Yeah, I will."

I fidgeted. "How far are you?"

"Paws," was all Harry said but closed his eyes and his hands morphed into rather large black cat paws. Harry opened his eyes; I saw they weren't quite focused and there was a feral yellow ring around one pupil.

"How?"

"Pick an animal that best fits you. Pick one that is useful. Pick one you want to be. Then convince yourself you are that animal. The magic is very different from what we do in class."

"More like what you do," I said instantly connecting it to the way he seemed to approach magic. I paused and thought for a moment. "What are you going to be?"

"A panther. If you don't mind I think I'm going to take a nap."

I nodded.

_Author's Note: I would like to thank the five people that have reviewed this story so far. It's encouraging in the extreme to have readers take the time to write even a few words about my story. I like to hear from you; even though this story is almost completely written having feedback is helpful and also touching. So thank you to mitremlap, Qazol, Teufel1987, bookworm19065, and sarah999._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	6. Consequences and Tricks

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Six: Consequences and Tricks

The next morning, I entered the Great Hall after most everyone else was there. I had slept in the Room of Requirement last night, not feeling up to going back to my house dorm. I strode over to where Draco was sitting at the Gryffindor house table, albeit with empty chairs in both directions. When Hermione saw me sit down she dragged Ron over to sit opposite the two of us with Ron protesting. The animosity had not really disappeared between the two, but with Draco's unwavering politeness and my intolerance of bickering, Ron, miraculously, had cooled his temper. I conjured some tea for myself. Draco scanned The Daily Prophet then handed over the front page. The headline read: **Half-Blood Disorder Coupled with an Eating**. Underneath that in a smaller font was _Harry Potter refuses treatment for serious health issue_. I scanned the article impressed they had been able to interview students and St. Mungo's healers since yesterday morning. I shouldn't have been after all the years. I looked up to find the entire hall staring at me. Hermione looked as if she was going to say something but I cut her off with a gesture. I stood up and climbed onto the table waving the paper. When I had the hall's attention professors included I set the front page on fire letting the ashes fall through my fingers. I then jumped down with a deliberate show of strength and energy, resuming my place. Hermione started in then with a long rant about how it was unhealthy and it would affect my ability to use magic, Ron nodded emphatically next to her, clearly these were truths he had grown up with. Draco ignored both on principle.

I broke in about ten minutes later after Hermione had restated all her facts twice and had started again. "Look Hermione, I know this isn't good for most people but it has had no adverse effect on me…"

"Harry," her voice was pitched high, "this may not be a problem for you now but it will be. You are just like the rest of us, in this case at least."

"Hermione, I am not having any trouble. Maybe I shouldn't have told you the way I did. And I don't blame you for going to Dumbledore. I _am_ sorry for worrying you but this is not something you can help me with." She nearly broke in again but I continued, "please, let me deal with this on my own."

She quieted but the glint in her eye said it was far from over.

"He may be right Hermione, yesterday is enough to prove that. Not a single spell of Dumbledore's touched him. Just let him alone for now, if it gets to the point where you are correct, I'm sure you and I can outsmart him easily enough." Draco took a sip of his juice.

"You realize you just made that plan a lot harder than it might have been," I said after another sip from my bottomless teacup.

"Yes, not that 'a lot' makes that much difference as easy as it would have been in the first place. Come on it is time for class."

I scowled at the small insult but let it pass.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Draco and I studied in the Room of Requirement as it held the books we needed. "Any luck with Animagus?" I asked after becoming bored with the work; theory had become particularly tedious since it didn't apply to me in the same way.

"I haven't worked on it yet." He hardly even looked up from his work so I didn't pursue the subject.

I gazed into the fire later that evening, all of my work was finished. Draco was working on arithmancy. I closed my eyes and imagined, 'I am a panther.' I repeated the thought for a minute then opened my eyes. My vision was blurred; I brushed my glasses off with a paw and conjured a mirror. My ears had moved and now were rounded triangles of black fur, my hair was shorter and my left eye was gold, the pupil a slit. Both of my hands were now padded paws and fine black hair covered to my elbows. I closed my eyes again. 'I am a panther.' I opened them again. A little more success, my nose had broadened and a few whiskers twitched on either side. I barred my teeth at the mirror, they were a cat's now not human. I saw Draco set down his quill and look up, he spilled his work as he started at the sight of me. I looked over at him. 'I am me.' I was back again.

The next morning was a nightmare. I sat down with Draco at Ravenclaw just to shake things up a little, which it did quite satisfactorily. Everything was normal until the post owls came. I had never received much mail, well except for last year after the interview, but I certainly received enough to make up for it that morning. Letters were dropped around me almost landing in my tea, which I covered protectively with a hand and hugged to my chest. Soon I had a pile that was threatening to fall off the table if the wrong letter was removed. I sighed. With a thought I sorted through them, none were from people I knew. Nor were there any of any importance. I looked at them for a moment and they were shredded bits of paper, then feathers that formed seven birds that followed the owls out the windows.

* * *

Harry and I continued to switch tables; I followed him in this, not feeling welcome at any of the tables, except Gryffindor which was, I had to say, ironic. We often caused second and first years to scatter and everyone else to attempt to move away with only a touch more tact. Classes continued and Dumbledore made no more attempts to force Harry to do anything. I could tell this only increased Harry's paranoia. While walking in the halls he would drop momentarily behind me as we turned corners or entered classrooms. At first it bothered me until I realized that he could get me out of whatever trouble that action got me into but I could hardly do the same for him. One day in late November, that caution paid off. We were on our way to Charms. As we rounded a corner, I hesitated; standing before me were most of the teachers in the school. That hesitation was enough for Harry to drop us both to the floor. Red stunners whizzed overhead. Harry must have done something, several of the teachers tried to move forward and nearly lost their balance, frozen their feet were they stood perhaps or some such thing. We got to our feet, I had my wand out but Harry folded his arms like he was addressing naughty children.

"I was waiting for this," Harry said at the swish of robes I heard behind us, "Dumbledore," it could be no one else, "I don't believe this is going to work."

A sigh came from behind us. "No, I guess it won't." I wanted to turn and face the threat but Harry continued to survey the adults so I followed suit nonchalantly brushing off my robes, but the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. Suddenly Harry tensed and I turned to see Dumbledore with his wand touching the back of Harry's neck.

"Now Harry, I believe you should come to the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey and myself."

"Professor, I do believe that wand you are stabbing my spine with, rather unnecessarily, is one of Fred and George's fakes. Go on give it a wave."

"Stupify," said Dumbledore and Harry sank to the stone floor. I wanted to crouch next to him but I brought my wand to point at Dumbledore though throwing it at him would have as much worth as any of the magic I could wield against him, without using unforgivables.

Then the wand made a noise reminiscent of Peeve's raspberries, though it maintained shape. I heard Harry's voice echo from behind Dumbledore though he was still sprawled on the floor, "I told you so. Now, your real wand is in your pocket." Harry stood up and made a point of brushing off his robes. "You are not to touch it or I might just decide to snap it in half." Dumbledore who had been reaching for his pocket snatched his hands back to where Harry could easily see them. "I am prepared to make a bargain with you, despite this severe invasion on my person." The teachers seemed to tense and I did too though I hid it better than all but Severus. "Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Madame Pomfrey, you are allowed to give me any potion I agree with to see if I am truly sick or not. If I pass them all you are not allowed to ambush my friends or me from around corners. If I do not then you are welcome to do anything you can to keep me in the hospital wing."

"Harry…" Dumbledore started.

"Mr. Potter." Harry spoke over him.

"That is hardly a fair bargain," said Dumbledore.

"Maybe not," agreed Harry, "but, take it or leave it. I shall even surrender my wand to Madame Pomfrey."

Someone waved a wand behind Harry's back. "That won't work," said Harry as he turned to look at Snape; I prepared myself to do something though I felt completely useless. The red light hit Harry and mere moments later the offending wand turned into something slimy and Snape dropped it. "Now, I think we should go to the hospital wing." Harry must have released the feet of the four he had mentioned because they followed us unhindered down the hall. When we arrived at the wing Harry walked over to a bed and sat down on it. I hung back across the room uncomfortable and stunned that Harry would leave himself so vulnerable though looking back, I should have know he was not so incapable.

The teachers crowded around Harry while Madame Pomfrey ran to her office to get the appropriate potions. When she came back Harry handed his wand to her. Hands suddenly covered my vision.

"Guess who." said Harry's voice.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Playing a marvelous trick," Harry answered removing his hands.

We watched as the other Harry was fed the first potion. Madame Pomfrey and Snape explained the effects, and that Harry promptly turned green as was expected in a healthy person.

"You're cheating," I whispered.

"Do you have a point," answered Harry, "I'm just trying to get them to leave off."

"How are you doing this anyway?"

"An extensive set of mirrors," Harry teased. "I'm holding an illusion of myself sitting on the bed over there. They tell me what the potion does and I comply with the healthy response."

"Well, I guess."

"I'm just glad I'm not the one downing all those nasty liquids."

"Me too."

Harry and I sat down. The other Harry refused only one potion because he didn't know exactly what shade he was expected to turn. An hour and a half later when the real Harry and I were thoroughly bored. Madame Pomfrey announced that those were all the potions she had. Snape folded his arms and glared at Harry's shadow.

"Well, I guess I'll be going," said the shadow.

"Wait a second, Mr. Potter, you lost," sneered Snape.

"How?"

"That blue potion turns the thumbs green on a healthy patient."

With a nod the adults fell on the illusion as it writhed.

"Keep your word, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"Sure," said the one standing next to me. The illusion lost its solidity then faded and we ran.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading_

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	7. Neville

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Seven: Neville

Draco and I slowed only a few halls away knowing the teachers were unlikely to give chase.

"Well so much for that," I said.

"Yeah," agreed Draco, "they'll have to come up with something spectacular to catch you. I'm not sure Dumbledore could have done something like that."

I shrugged and we walked on since it was Friday and we had already missed Charms our only class that day.

Draco spoke again, "why don't you just make yourself healthy, it seems to me the magic would be simple enough for that. Why waste energy holding a mirage all the time?"

"The magic doesn't work that way," I had tried it but I guess part of me wanted the reminder of Sirius and I was therefore unable to produce such an effect. Perhaps it didn't bother me enough. "The mirage is not so hard to keep up." Draco did not seem satisfied with the answer but I wouldn't allow the subject to continue so he dropped it after a few more attempts.

I heard something as we passed a smaller side corridor.

"This way," I said. "Can you hear that?"

"No," said Draco but he followed immediately anyway.

I wondered momentarily about the acute hearing and then shrugged it off as I did anything abnormal, attributing it to the disorder. "Sounds like… In this room I think."

I turned the knob and opened the door to find Neville. He was standing, holding a piece of paper, by the open window across from the door, cold wind blowing bitingly about the room. His robes were disarrayed, the prefect pin askew.

"Neville?" I said while I pulled my cloak tighter.

"I thought I locked that door," Neville said bitterly.

"You did, I just unlocked it," I explained, "What's upset you?"

Neville waved the paper. "It's this and no one… no one…" he choked on the end of his sentence.

"Neville, it's alright," I said trying to comfort him. Draco held back.

"No one talks to me much anymore," Neville said. I saw when Neville turned fully towards me that he had been crying.

"I'm sorry Neville, I shouldn't have…"

"No, I understand. You especially have an excuse. The media hounds you, the student population wavers in fear and shock, and the teachers are always trying to corner you."

"That's not much of an excuse to forget friends."

"I just expected Ron and Hermione to be there, but they have fallen in love and it seems like that is all the world to them. And Ginny and Luna must spend every spare second in the library studying for OWLs or…" Neville wiped his eyes on his sleeve, "I didn't want to bother anyone."

"Please, bother me," I pleaded.

Neville broke into tears again and held the paper, hand shaking, out to me. I took the letter and passed it to Draco and put a comforting arm around Neville who was shaking. Draco read the letter to me but I put up a barrier so Neville didn't have to hear it again.

"We regret to inform you," Draco began, "your grandmother has not been seen or heard from in the last two weeks. She has not shown herself at two ministry appointments. We believe this is the work of You-Know-Who." Draco didn't finish the letter.

"Close the window," I muttered.

"Neville, I can't say 'it'll be alright in the end' because I don't know that. I know that best of all. Hope is great. So, hope, anything can happen."

Neville stopped crying. He held out a hand to Draco who took it gravely.

"Thanks for finding me."

"Come on let's go back to our room."

Neville joined Draco and me and we continued to switch house tables like we had been for the last month. I tried to explain the disorder to Neville with a little more success than Hermione who was so dependent on words and wand-waving though she was considerably better than Ron. We met in the Room of Requirement where Draco and I kept our rooms preferring it to our dormitories: me, because of the stares and Draco, for the fear of his housemates' wrath. The older Slytherins had grown increasingly hostile and Draco chose to stay out of their way; though their broad shoulders commonly accidentally caught him while we were in the corridors. Few students came within two feet of me and I had little doubt that it was because of fear I had changed too much for them to think of me as the same Harry they had taken classes with, and my open disagreement with the Headmaster; I could only guess how they felt about that.

A week and a half after Neville had joined us, we sat in the Room of Requirement, Neville was editing my Herbology essay, Draco was laboring over an Ancient Runes translation and while waiting for Neville to return my paper, I practiced my Animagus transformation.

'I am a panther.' I could feel the changes; my head became feline and my hands broadened into paws. I grew a tail and fur appeared up my arms and legs. I opened my eyes. The changes were less changes to me now then when I had made my first attempts; they were more a part of me now, a different skin, the same as wearing different clothes. 'Better,' I thought I had improved since last time. My skeleton was somewhere between cat and human, still not quite there. My nose twitched and I tried again. More fur seemed to be as much as I would get.

"Here, Harry, I finished," Neville looked up and fell off his chair. Draco only laughed and reached down to help him up. I morphed back.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you about that."

Neville stuttered, "how long have you been trying?"

"Since, the second or third week of school."

Neville turned to Draco, "you too?"

"Yep."

Draco tried and he shrunk down to about the right size and gained a wing and a beak. Then he became himself again.

"How?"

I explained the idea.

"I've always wanted to be an Animagus. I always thought of myself as a fox or wolf or something."

"Well, try it," Draco urged.

Neville closed his eyes. His hair turned silver, then red, and back to silver.

"Choose one, Neville," I suggested pleased that he had succeeded in doing even that much.

Dog paws developed. Neville opened his eyes and I held a mirror for him. The changes faded.

"What did you pick?"

"I compromised, gray fox and a little bigger than normal."

"Useful," agreed Draco.

I had the transformation before winter break and Neville was not far behind because he devoted more time to it. Draco found himself swamped in essays from his extra classes and refused to drop any when it was suggested. _The Prophet_ reported arrests and disappearings, daily. Apart from that, Voldemort was quiet and I had felt nothing from him, perhaps we had both learned to be careful of the link. The weather turned even colder and I started wearing gloves inside to keep my fingers warm as warming spells seemed to have little effect. Even that only took the bite from the numbing cold. We were sitting at Gryffindor one morning and McGonagall came down the table taking names for those going home over break.

"Neville, I guess you will be staying here?"

Neville started to nod when I broke in, "No, Neville, you're invited to stay with Draco and me.

"Where is that Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall.

"Not here," I said defensively.

"The headmaster wants you to stay here or headquarters."

"I'm not staying here and I most certainly won't ever set foot in that house again."

McGonagall moved on, marking none of us as students going home. I knew Dumbledore would have a great deal to say on the matter but I didn't really care, there was little he could do about it.

"Where are you going Harry," asked Neville.  
"When I was 'missing'," I chuckled at the idea, "I stayed with Remus and he has invited us to join him for the break." I was neglecting to acknowledge the possibility of eavesdroppers.

"Really? Full moon is the day after Christmas though,"

"Hence the Animagus transformation," I said.

_Author's Note: Thanks for your reviews and patience. I would like to let you know that as it stands this story is at least sixty chapters long at about 1500 words each. So at this point you've read barely a tenth of the total story arc. That being said I hope you are still enjoying the story. I would as always love to here your opinions about everything from ideas about the characters to critiques of my writing style. All words are encouraging._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	8. Animagi

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Eight: Animagi

The students going home left that Friday and we slipped out with them. Instead of getting on the train with the rest though, we walked through Hogsmeade and up the hill to where Sirius had hid during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Even standing in front of the cave my nose prickled and a lump appeared in my throat; Draco put a hand on my shoulder for reassurance though I doubted he knew all of why I was upset just that I was. I heard footsteps in the woods and looked in that direction considering the threat of an attack, but Remus came striding through the brush a few moments later.

"Good to see you, Harry," Remus hugged me and I almost fell to tears if only on the inside, "Nice to see you again Neville, how is your new wand serving you?"

"Much better," said Neville. The one he had been using, his father's, had snapped and Ollivander had sold Neville one that was truly his.

"Draco," said Remus extending a hand, "How about a new start?"

"Definitely." Draco shook Remus' hand.

"I can't take all three of you in one jump. Harry you know where the cottage is; you guide Draco and I'll show Neville."

I nodded knowing apparation was thoroughly illegal for me to perform. I gripped Draco and we were gone as silently as moths. Hermione had told me after Dumbledore apparated that the more powerful the wizard the louder his apparation 'pop'. Rather inconvenient on a battle ground, so I was silent. We landed in the entrance hall of the cottage. I was the only one who fell. The mode of travel had never been comfortable, not as bad as portkey but always unnatural to me, my wildness perhaps. I noticed for the first time that the sense of that was closer here.

"Tea, that's what I need. Come make yourselves at home. Your bags are upstairs." Remus wandered into the kitchen calling back to them, "Harry, when do you expect that owl from Dumbledore will arrive wondering if I know where you are?"

Draco and Neville laughed. "I expect tomorrow," I answered cheerfully.

"I'm glad for the company," said Remus. He left the leaves steeping for a good ten minutes.

* * *

Draco and I noticed in the first days that Remus like Harry ate very little, though he had plenty of food for the hungry and he cooked dinner for us most nights. Draco started formulating ideas and answers to his questions in that respect, sharing them with me when the others were out of earshot. Remus was a werewolf and that made him magical in more ways than being a wizard would. Harry suffered (Draco didn't think 'suffered,' like most people explained the condition, was right. He thought Harry was enjoying it a little too much to be suffering, and I agreed with him,) from half-blood disorder, but Draco had no idea how that changed him. We assumed from the little information that was to be had that it was similar to being a werewolf though, at least as far as making him more magical than the average wizard. I concurred, bringing up the point that magical plants needed less care than normal ones. They survived, that was the point.

The week before Christmas passed and Draco threw himself into the practice and I refined my grey fox. Harry was reading from the book that he had researched when he had started learning the transformation. The beginning passage said that once your essence was reflected in the animal you transformed into, you would be that animal in truth; that gave us all something to think about.

* * *

We woke on Christmas morning to find the windows frosted. Remus had tea brewed already and Draco and Neville who had never preferred tea before claimed their cups quickly. Remus had bought us each defense books that under Ministry regulation were not to be in the hands of three sixth years. I started reading mine immediately. The three of us exchanged small gifts while Remus watched sipping his tea, happy to have company. Then we turned to him.

"We have something to show you," I said and we changed. I became a large panther, Draco a falcon and Neville a big silver-gray fox. Remus was speechless. I uncurled from my chair and stepped up next to Remus on the couch. Tears started to fall down Remus' face and I turned back hurriedly. I knew what the tears were for, I fought them in my own eyes too, for regret and sadness but I also knew that Remus was grateful and happy that he would not have to face the full moon alone like he had for so long.

"Never again Remus," I promised. Neville and Draco nodded.

_Author's Note: A little short but I'll have another one for you tomorrow. _

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	9. Herons

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Nine: Herons

The next night was the full moon and the three students were anxious. I drank the last of my Wolfsbane Potion in the afternoon. I had collected some from Snape before Christmas and had been badgered about Harry's whereabouts. Harry barely managed to convince me that the three could keep the werewolf in check; he argued that James had managed it, but we had been so reckless then. I gave in after awhile mainly because civilization was so far away, nearly two days travel, there were houses closer mainly wizarding families and even in this modern day wizards stayed in on the nights of the full moon. Harry, Draco, and Neville changed before sunset. I was a wolf shortly after. We ran and chased each other most of the night. When we returned to the cottage after dawn, I retired, sleeping the rest of the day.

* * *

"Harry, what are you going to do every full moon during school?"

"Sneak out and come here."

"Agreed," said Draco.

The next week passed quickly. The day before we were to return Remus received a letter. It said that Professor Carson had resigned and begged that Remus take her place.

"I don't know," said Remus when he discussed it with me later.

"It'll put you right underneath Dumbledore," I said not against the idea but not liking some of the implications.

"Yeah, but I love teaching," said Remus.

"Oh, is that why you get me a fifty pound book every year," I teased. I had finished my own book and had promptly stolen Draco's to read, almost right out of his hands. "It's your choice."

"I'll finish the year for the students and then Dumbledore can find another teacher." Remus sent an owl back to Dumbledore.

We were packed and ready to leave the next day. We apparated to outside the grounds and Remus left us going up to the castle. Draco, Neville, and I banished our belongings to the Room of Requirement and decided to enjoy the uncharacteristically nice day.

"We need a name," said Neville as we walked along the ill-defined path that skirted the edge of the forbidden forest. Draco and I glanced at him.

"What made you think of that?"

"I don't know, I guess living with Remus and hearing more about the Marauders. It's kind of silly, maybe."

"Hmm."

"Do you have a suggestion?"

"No, an idea, maybe."

"What?"

"Well first what does it represent? The three of us, yes? But who are we? We are no longer lions or snakes we abandoned those labels."

"I don't know. Outsiders, now, all of us…"

"Proud," put in Draco. I nodded.

"Um… there are three of us…" Neville trailed off thinking while they walked.

"A murder," I muttered.

Neville and Draco looked at me. "What?"

"It's what a group of crows is called. A murder of crows."

"Crow is too close to Raven."

I had to agree.

"Could we be a murder of something else?"

"I don't know. A murder seems kind of dark."

"Maybe… I think it rings well though."

"What about… herons?"

"What… about herons?"

"What is a group of herons called?"

"Um… I think a siege," I said.

"How do you know that," said Draco.

"I spent most of the recesses in the library when I was younger," I answered. That was true until Dudley discovered this fact and chased me through the building then out the doors. I had tried to leap behind the garbage bins but had ended up on the roof. At that point I had given up the library as my recess haunt.

"Ok, do we like Herons?"

"I do."

"I do."

"Good, me too."

We walked on. 'It'd be wicked if we could all be herons.' I thought and repeated the thought aloud.

"Yeah," chuckled Draco.

"I thought a wizard couldn't be more than one animal," said Neville.

"I think," I said, "a wizard can have one _true_ animal. They can take others and use the animals strengths but it is only a shape then."

"True?"

"Yeah, I don't know how you tell though."

"Do you think we could manage it?"

"I don't know. The approach we took is different from the standard way. I thought it was overly difficult when I looked at the original theory. So, I tried my way."

"Why don't you give it a go, Harry?"

I closed my eyes and stopped on the path where we had been walking up to the castle. In my mind's eye I careful constructed the image. A crest of feathers appeared and I felt my bones start to hollow.

"Seems like we can. I think the other way is hard because you can only find one shape through it, your true one. This way doesn't find the true one but you can tweak your shape endlessly until you do." I neglected the form of feathers and they became hair again.

We slipped into the castle later; having spent the oddly warm afternoon outside knowing that January would undoubtedly turn nasty. We sat for dinner in the great hall with the rest of the students though I didn't eat. Before the main course appeared on the plates Dumbledore announced Remus Lupin had returned to his post as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts and we joined in the enthusiastic applause with the other upper years.

After dinner, we joined Remus in his office for tea. We talked quietly for a while. Remus said Dumbledore had pressed him for information about me. Dumbledore had also told Remus that I was ill and pleaded with him to help the staff corner me or coerce me into going to the hospital wing. It wasn't the first time Remus had heard of the matter of course.

"I refused of course. I told him that if he couldn't catch and keep you then I doubted even Voldemort could. He wasn't happy with my refusal."

"Tough," I said.

"He has your best interests at heart even if he is a little misguided in what's best." I nodded reluctantly. I agreed that Dumbledore was worried but I wished the headmaster could just leave off. "You best get to bed you have classes in the morning."

"Goodnight," we chorused, and I gave Remus a grateful hug. It was nice to know there was a professor on my side.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	10. A Lesson in Dueling

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Ten: A Lesson in Dueling

I went to sleep instantly when Draco waved the lights out and the sleep was restful until just before dawn. Then, I writhed and sweated. My dream had turned nightmarish. One by one I lost my friends to Voldemort in a series of green flashes. "Now, Harry, what do you have left," his voice was soft and neutral, not sinister. I redoubled my efforts, throwing curse after hex at Voldemort. Each, Voldemort deflected with the ease of sweeping cobwebs from a dusty room. Magic was failing me and I had nothing left, he was right, I had nothing. "Is that all the Potter's son can do, disgrace. Everyone you cared about is dead. What do you have?" I stumbled, my knees nearly failed, my hand sweept in an arc before me. "Nothing." I threw another curse at Voldemort, though feebly. "That's right, give up. _Avada Kedavra_." Before the spell reached me I sank to my knees, wand falling from my lose grip. The spell slipped through my chest and I did not resist its constricting of my heart. I let Voldemort win because what did I have left to fight for. Nothing, why fight for nothing?

Draco shook me awake and Neville was right there to hand me a cup of tea. Both looked stressed and worried like they had been trying to stir me for some time.

"Thanks," I said swallowing hard. My hands shook uncontrollably, hot tea jumped over the rim of the cup and Draco reached out to steady it. I wasn't sure what had unsettled me; I had had similar nightmares in the past. Losing my friends was distressing to think about but knowing the dream for what it was, I didn't think that was the entirety. Surrendering was at the heart of the matter; I was afraid I would break, afraid I would give up before the right time. I tried to tell myself it was only a dream but that didn't stop the shaking.

"We won't go to classes this morning," suggested Neville, "the teachers can't expect much right after break anyway. We'll go to Defense this afternoon."

I nodded not sure I could walk steadily at the moment. I worried about Voldemort seeing my mind. I knew I was vulnerable, occulmancy had been a failure, and honestly I did not think that failure could be laid at my feet or Snape's. Perhaps that link was one that could not be blocked. I tried to imagine Voldemort stripped of power but I couldn't convince myself of the image, Voldemort had been too real to me for far too long, a shadow over my entire life. It had been dim before Hogwarts but now night had fallen.

I had calmed down by lunch, logic throwing out any objections but part of my mind continued playing tricks especially with the shadows that lingered in the winter hallways. I worried constantly about my friends, Remus, Draco, and Neville most of all, even with them all in sight and in apparent safety.

* * *

A few weeks later found Harry waking from nightmares most nights. He woke me most mornings with a muffled yell or a moan. I could see what the dreams did to him. His sleep was ruined; he stayed awake late into the night, and then his dreams kept him from rest. Over the weeks they seemed to worsen; it took longer for me to wake him, as though they trapped him inside. Once he was awake it took minutes for him to see me standing over him, I saw fear in his eyes, something I hated seeing there. I could not fathom what kind of dream could do that to him but well after their ending he still shivered with memory. Into the fourth week, he started to chase off the effects faster but even for that I could see he was haunted most of the day. I felt helpless, he refused the dreamless sleep potion I had offered no less than three times; and so I gave up doing more than keeping him from harm while asleep and waking him when he did not pull himself out. It was the most I could do.

Remus was welcomed by most of the school and his classes became popular. His focus was on defense but the term was redefined to include minor hexes and jinxes rather than just spells like _protego_. He showed and encouraged creative use of spells in dueling and about once a week the lesson would be duels set between various students. The three of us Herons worked in a group as the student number was odd in our class and Remus used us as examples often. Normally, Harry was brought to the front and despite his normal opinion about attention, he did not mind. His spellwork was the most creative of anyone I had ever seen duel, and I had seen some incredible duelers. My father had taken me to the international dueling tournament more than once. He was mainly there on business but I loved watching the best wizards and witches match up and use magic and slyness together. Harry defined another category entirely; I suspected not having to use real spells helped, freeing him from the structure that other wizards were bound to in their spellwork. I would bet money on him against any of those champions, despite their greater age and years of practice.

* * *

We were all able to transform into herons by early February. We were outside enjoying a walk around the grounds when Harry smirked, became a heron, and took off from the path. Draco and I followed swiftly; the transformation had been easier learning than the first, just a different skin. We flew off towards the school and landed in front of the entrance. The doors Fred and George had escaped through last year were open and so we went up the steps. The students in the front hall dropped books and stared at our heron bodies poking around. We went up the marble staircase and towards the DADA wing. Remus was behind his desk, the day before last had been the full moon and he was trying to catch up on his grading. His classes had been cancelled, as the whole school couldn't fail to know he was a werewolf there was no point in covering his classes around the full moon. I was still in awe that Dumbledore had not been challenged by the ministry on the appointment, especially considering the terms under which Remus had resigned the last time.

On the night of the full moon, we had escaped the castle and romped outside of Hogsmeade our forms matching the strength and endurance Remus had, what fun it had been to forget who we were for that little time; the stress put on us by school work was enough — I could not imagine how Harry struggled.

Remus looked up and watched the three of us strut into the room. He rolled his eyes and shook his head; he knew exactly who we were even if he had not seen these forms yet, though really who else in the entire school would appear as a group of Herons.

"What are you doing?" His voice was light and amused, so close to laughter.

"Nothing," said Harry who had shifted back to human, "I was bored and felt like causing a stir."

"You're almost as bad as…" he stopped short and set down his quill without finishing his prior remark. He looked down, and then glanced at Harry. I knew the comment had referenced Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and Remus' closest friend. Both held slightly pained expressions but Harry's was so distant, that it was as if he had not heard the words at all, but had merely thought of something sad. Remus continued on a very different subject, "Could you help me with my third years tomorrow? I know you have class but that doesn't seem to bother you or your marks surprisingly."

"All three of us?" Draco, now human, sat down at a desk and pulled shrunk work from a pocket and started on it. I, too, shed my feathers.

"Yeah, why not? They seem to have trouble dueling; they take turns almost. One casts a spell and then the other waits too long to shield or dodge. I think an example is best."

"Happy to," said Harry, "I guess that's charms we'll be missing."

He sat down and conjured tea. We worked quietly the rest of the afternoon and skipped dinner.

* * *

The next day I stood in the shadows at the back of Remus' classroom, Neville and Draco at my shoulders. We watched the third years file along an aisle a few desks in front of us to get to their seats. A few noticed us but the rest seemed to be oblivious. Remus stood up from behind his desk.

"We have guests today," started Remus gesturing towards where we stood. I made us invisible to the ones who hadn't been paying attention on arrival and started moving towards the front of the room. The third years turned to look and then turned back to Remus again. All but the few who had seen us looked confused.

"Harry, let them see you," said Remus, rolling his eyes, he knew the trick.

"As you wish," I said, having reached the front of the room. I dropped the invisibility and sat down on the edge of Remus' desk. The third years jumped out of their skins.

"I think you've impressed them." Those words were directed quietly my way.

Neville and Draco walked to the front. The students knew that we were the three students that broke the house table manners and therefore, no doubt fueled by the older students, held feelings of general distrust and suspicion towards us. Tradition stated, as everyone knew, that students were to sit with their house. Remus introduced us and started to explain to his class why we were standing before them.

A student raised a hand and Remus called on her, "Don't they have a class right now?"

"No," lied Remus; being a teacher his guests had to set proper examples and that included not skipping class. "Anyway, Harry and Draco are going to duel for you, so you can see how adaptable spells can be."

I inclined my head to Draco who returned the gesture mockingly. We started then; Draco threw a wide variety of curses at me. I ignored them mostly though I did make a small effort to dodge or deflect rather than simply ignore the existence of the spells all together. After no more than a minute I sent little blue birds to fly around Draco's head. Draco vanished the birds and tried to slide a chair under my legs to put my balance off. I rested control of the chair from him and swung it around me and then sent it dashing towards him. Draco demolished the chair to splinters with a wave of his wand. I did try to be fair in the way I used my magic; I could do anything I wished with it and Draco was confined to advanced charms and swift transfigurations. He transfigured those splinters into knives and flicked them back at me with lightning speed. I conjured a water balloon above Draco's head. I chose to neglect the shape of the knives and they became feathers, drifting slowly to the floor. Draco had realized the small danger posed by my water balloon; I had waited too long to drop it. Draco brought Remus' pointing stick above his head turning it into an umbrella. I let the water balloon ghost through the umbrella and break on his head. It drenched him and he glared. The glare didn't last long Draco knew all too well that he was lucky to last even so long. Draco brought up his wand, clearly deciding that while he was wet and a little less dignified than he had been, a water balloon was by no means a killing blow; ready to start again.

"Alright, and stop," called Remus before we could start again. Neville dried Draco off with another spell. Draco gave me another exasperated look which I returned in like. Remus lectured the class on our technique. Neville and Draco dueled next and they stuck to more conventional hexes and shields; spells third years could replicate. Remus brought two of his students up and had them duel while Draco and Neville whispered suggestions to them. It seemed to help. Remus thanked us and the class ended. I watched the students exit while we said goodbye to Remus and followed closely on their heels. I made us less noticeable and moved through the third years in the direction of our dorm.

"That Potter," I heard one brown-haired boy say to a ring standing but a little way down the hall, "he isn't real. Were you watching him?"

"Yeah, that's magic wizards simply aren't capable of. I grew up in the wizarding world and that is the stuff of legends… of Merlin," said his friend. I had heard talk like this among the older students and I suspected they were merely parroting what the upper years said. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It was awkward being stared at; hearing your person being discussed was something else entirely.

"My da thinks he shouldn't be allowed in the school with us. Half-blood untamed. That's enough reason. My da says people like him are dangerous."

I looked at the group more carefully. Those words nearly snapped me, I'm not even sure why, I had heard enough of the same in the past; and worse on more than one occasion. The last boy to have spoken was wearing Ravenclaw blue. "Who is the boy in that group there, black hair blue robes next to the redhead?" I asked of Draco. The boy was likely the son of a Pure-blood family and his father was likely part of the ministry if what he said was anything to go by.

"That's Perkins' nephew. My second-cousin by marriage twice removed. Perkins' is part of the law-enforcement department, close to Fudge though not in Voldemort's camp."

"Ah, that would explain it, I know of Perkins." I said.

"Wizards seem incapable of thinking for themselves," said Neville bitterly, I guessed he had overheard a little of the conversation that I had eavesdropped on.

_Author's Note: I've had a request for longer chapters. I rather not do this because except in a few cases I feel like the narrative breaks happen every few thousand words anyway. In addition it would mean longer between updates and frankly when I'm reading fiction I rather have a short chapter everyday than a long one once a week. As an author it's easier for me to update this way, in short chapters rather than longer. So I think I will be sticking to this way... probably._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	11. Nightmares

Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Eleven: Nightmares

A few days into March, I took a walk through the grounds with Draco and Neville as we commonly did on nicer days. We had taken a path that ran just inside the border of the forbidden forest. There was a faint series of pops off among the trees. Experience made me spin to face the noise, cock my head and listen. The other two stopped and looked in the direction I was peering. They had been having an argument about the use of plants in potions versus salves but it died on their tongues now. We listened for a while, but nothing moved or sounded among the trees. I was almost ready to move along the path again when I heard the faintest rustle I almost didn't believe I had heard it. Lights shot out of the woods from several directions. I was already half crouched and dodged easily. Draco spun out of the way, seeker skills still keen even though he had not played in almost a year, but Neville was struck by a yellow green spell. He went down heaving and pale. Draco and I turned to stand protectively above him and still have the greatest range of firing. I felt my heart pound hard; I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my palms. I tried desperately to null the foes' magic, but doubt wriggled in and the spells continued to fly. Draco put up a successful barrier and held it while I diverted the opposing spells back towards the casters. Soon the lights stopped and I heard the _pops _of apparation much louder than when they had come. Draco dropped the shield and helped a shaking Neville to his feet. I assisted in steadying him as Neville sought his balance.

"What hit you?" asked Draco.

Neville shook his head. "Did you see," Draco demanded of me.

"Yeah, the spell was yellow-green like an old bruise."

Draco cursed under his breath. "We need to go to the castle. You can't say it never happened can you," he inquired; he was aware of my mode of magic after living with me for as long as he had.

I frowned, "not after seeing him," I shook my head slightly. "It's too real," I offered as an apology. We started back towards the castle, Draco and I supporting Neville who was dizzy and ill.

"No, that's alright, he'll be fixed up in a couple of days with the right potion."

"You know what it was?"

"Yeah, remember that essay Remus assigned not too long ago, the one where we picked a common dark spell and explained the symptoms and cures or counter curses?"

"Yeah,"

"Well that was the one that I picked."

"Can you brew the potion, or Snape?"

"I have a supply actually; I brewed it as part of my project for Remus."

I shook my head and muttered about over-achievers.

We made it to the Room of Requirement and Neville settled on the couch before the fire that had started the instant we had opened the door. Draco ran for his potion supply, and I tried my best to comfort Neville who was shaking horribly. Draco came back unplugging a medium sized vial.

"Good thing I made a lot. It keeps well though and I thought it would be useful since the curse is not that uncommon," Draco muttered. Then to Neville he said, "here, a couple of days of this and you'll be alright."

Neville took it and Draco helped him tip the bottle. I collapsed in a chair nearby and stared into the fire. In an hour I was asleep.

I stood in a stone hall and heard voices in the next room. They were quiet but I understood most of the words. The voices had a hissing quality to them.

"Well the Longbottom boy is taken care of," one hissed, "Potter looked shocked and unprepared. Unfortunately, Malfoy, that traitor, was with them. I'm hoping we can do away with him as well. He gives Potter an advantage. He has gained insight."

"Yes, master," agreed the other speaker.

"Let's hope those young eager masks can follow through,"

I woke with a start. I was in front of the dying fire slumped in one of the chairs. Neville was standing with Draco who was searching through his book bag. Neville nearly collapsed, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles. His face grew pale with only the smallest flushes of color on his cheeks and those were splotchy. I leapt to my feet and ran to him.

Draco stood flabbergasted, "What's wrong with him?"

"You remember the walk yesterday, the ambush?" I said, supporting Neville to a chair.

"What walk? It rained yesterday," said Draco sounding utterly confused.

"The walk. We skipped potions, remember?"

"That never happened."

I looked over my shoulder at Draco, "it didn't? You're sure?"

"Yes, it was transfiguration yesterday."

"It was a dream, all of it," I said confused, his first words should have clued me in. "I had a nightmare…" I continued in detail.

Neville seemed less and less sick as I spoke, as I became surer it had been a dream. His skin was no longer clammy and he was no longer pale or shaking.

"Neville," I said, "you're okay?"

"Yes," Neville nodded.

"Disturbing," muttered Draco, "why did Neville get sick if it was only a dream?" I shook my head, I had no ideas that I was willing to voice; it was only a dream, only a dream.

Neville and I were in the library doing research a week later. Draco was late, his class had been out for nearly fifteen minutes and we had agreed to meet immediately after it. I checked my watch nervously.

"We should go look for him," I said.

"What if he shows up here and we are gone?"

"If he is this late then something is wrong. Here I'll check the usual places and with Remus, you see if anyone knows where he is. I'll send you a note."

We left the library and parted ways in the hall. I checked everywhere I could think to find Draco. Remus said he hadn't seen him but joined the search. My fears of kidnappings and violence shivered at the back of my head; whispering scenarios as bad as my nightmares. My heart pounded fiercely as I swept down the stone halls. 'His last class was ancient runes. Fastest route.' I started to trace Draco's steps. I turned down the hall and then through a large classroom and out another door. I leapt down a staircase and followed a narrower corridor to the end and down a little known hidden stairway that the three of us knew about. I practically fell down the narrow stone steps with haste, part of me knowing what would be found at the bottom. Close to the end I heard shouts that reverberated up the stairs.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Defying the Dark Lord," spat another.

"He will kill you," said another arrogant voice.

I felt the blood drain from my face. I turned invisible, taking less thought then the skill had ever required before. I slipped through the apparently solid stonewall. Draco was pinned against the stone opposite me.

I heard him mumble, "I doubt he would do me that honor," in reply. One of the students pinning him shook him twisting his arm. Draco cringed. I felled the two pinning him; Crabbe and Goyle both received large lumps on their skulls that put their muscle out of service. Draco slumped to the floor weaker than I had expected. The other students started to run.

There had been a group of students standing in a semicircle around the end of the deserted hall. They were mostly Slytherins, though there was a Ravenclaw and two Hufflepuffs. Gryffindor was noticeably absent but if the plan was to attack Draco then surely they planned on the fact that I would be the one to find and rescue him. Strangely, I knew most of the Gryffindors by name (sitting unnoticed in the common-room and watching fellow students go about their business can provide that knowledge) so perhaps they decided not to risk betraying any playing spy for Voldemort. I held no illusions about Gryffindor being free of little masks; Voldemort had too much skill at persuasion not to have at least a few, even against their will. I looked at Draco. He had a bloody nose and his clothes were askew; he looked dazed, what torture they had managed in the time before now I was not sure. The other students started to run after the thugs had collapsed; I blocked their attempt at escape with an imagined wall of dense fog. The ones that had started running skidded to a halt. I reappeared but obscured by shadows. A few decided unknown fog was better than the dark figure at the end of the hall and disappeared into the grayness. The ringleader, Theodore Nott held his ground though.

"Harry Potter," he sneered.

The students behind him turned, realizing they outnumbered the threat perhaps or recognizing an oppurtunity. I sent a note to Neville giving location, explanation and instruction; I hoped he could find Dumbledore quickly; I needed a witness for my side. I had seen the Hufflepuffs go through the fog at the end of the hall; I hoped Neville could beat them to the report. Nott cast a spell and I made it vanish between us and relocated the energy to behind one of the other students. Nott cast several more spells and I deflected them in similar fashion. The other students regrouped and backed Nott from behind trying to overwhelm their single opponent. I neglected to acknowledge their magical quality and the lights hit me without causing any effect. I could not do the same to Nott unfortunately.

"_Avada kedavra_," breathed Nott when he thought I was taking a moment to catch my breath, though I had not spoken once. I conjured the first object to come to mind, a mirror, and the spell hit it. The spell, however weirdly, continued in the mirror's image. The spell hit Nott's reflection and the real Nott doubled over. This was too much magic for the others; they turned and ran. The fog dissipated around their heels; I let them pass, turning concern to Draco. Neville showed up then with Remus also coming through the almost unknown passage. Nott coughed and was ignored. I crouched by Draco and examined him. Draco's wrist was broken and his nose was also as far as I could tell. Physically there was little beyond that wrong with him. I helped Draco stand though he wavered until Neville took his other elbow.

"Are you hurt, Harry," asked Remus.

"No."

"I'm sorry, Harry I couldn't find Dumbledore and then I ran into Remus and we decided joining you would be best."

"S'alright, Dumbledore would not have arrived until right now anyway," I said watching the Headmaster advance up the Hall.

"A pair of Hufflepuffs came and told me that Mr. Malfoy started a fight with Mr. Nott," he said when he had stopped by the boy.

I set my jaw and refused to speak. I drew a piece of cloth from my pocket and held it to Draco's nose.

"Phanks," mumbled Draco. I nodded. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Nott and levitated the boy onto it.

"Come," he said, "we are going to the Hospital Wing."

"No," said Neville before I could speak.

Dumbledore sighed, turned, and walked away.

We followed Remus back to his office. I imagined Draco's nose and wrist healed and they were. Draco explained what had happened, glancing across what the students had done to him until I had arrived and then I took up the story. As I spoke I saw the other possibilities that I had not when I had been defending myself and Draco from further attack. I could have frozen their feet where they stood. I had done that to as many teachers; teachers with greater experience than students who had at best six and a half years of study. Remus was curious about the mirror but I didn't know much about how or why it had happened. It reminded me of when my wand linked with Voldemort's, spells reversed. Had the mirror reversed the effects of _avada kedavra?_

"Honestly, I expected the mirror to shatter," I said after I took a sip of tea.

"Did you find my wand," asked Draco. I summoned it and handed it to him.

"Why didn't you use the map to find me?"

I sat there, mentally slapping myself, "I didn't think of it."

Draco shook his head grumbling about Gryffindor bravery.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	12. The Truth

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twelve: The Truth

When I woke the next morning I hoped that the attack had just been one of my nightmares though I knew it wasn't. Neville confirmed that for me when I passed by him. I found Draco staring at the dying fire.

"Did you sleep at all," I asked.

Draco looked up at me, "I never thought I was that vulnerable."

I assumed that was a 'no'. "Come let's go down to breakfast."

When we walked in the whole hall became silent. We sat down with the Gryffindors and Neville served himself. Draco didn't eat anything, neither did I but then as usual I wasn't hungry. Ron and Hermione sat down across from us when they arrived.

"You ok," asked Hermione.

"News travels fast," I said, swishing my newly conjured tea in a small circle. I conjured a cup in front of Draco, who took it out of the air and stared into it frowning.

"Yeah, everyone thinks Malfoy started it though," said Ron unhelpfully; he still spoke as if Draco was not there, but the venom that used to be associated with the name had faded when I refused to budge on the subject of our friendship and alliance.

"Only because that was the first story told," said Hermione, cutting Ron off, for having been insulted more often, she had released the animosity far faster than Ron had.

I shook my head. Draco nudged me and I retold the story for their benefit and anyone else who was within hearing distance.

"Nott is still in the hospital wing," said Hermione, "Most of the school is siding with him. I think it's because the other three houses have witnesses. Gryffindors, I believe will back you." Ron nodded in agreement.

I felt that was mildly reassuring but knew there would be dissenters.

* * *

Things settled down in the castle, though there was a growing feud between Gryffindors and the other three houses because of their support of Harry and Draco. There had not been any altercations but in the classes there was a separation and no one went anywhere without at least one friend from their own house. Luna was the single exception of the school (besides Harry, Draco and me). She and Ginny shared all their classes and were never found without the other. Luna who had always been an outsider suffered for it. Two days after the incident, Luna had in protest, though who knew if thats how she saw it, left her house dormitory. Ginny with the support of Gryffindor let her stay in the tower. She was the only one who dared go against house opinion though. Older students bullied the younger and the atmosphere was distinctly tense. Harry, Draco and I stayed generally unnoticed thanks to Harry. He changed our faces while we were in the halls to be less noticeable or sometimes went completely invisible though that generally made movement in the crowd rather difficult. Ginny and Luna and sometimes Ron and Hermione joined us in the library in the evening. Luna had continued to stay in the tower even after the first few days of strife had more or less dissolved. We were all surprised at the lack of reaction to Nott from the teachers. Little was heard of the boy and we had not seen him in class. Harry had not received any punishment or even been called by our head of house or the headmaster. Nor had Draco.

* * *

Two weeks after the incident, a note appeared in front of me while I sat at the Great Hall table waiting for my friends to finish eating.

_I would like to speak to you, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Longbottom, and Professor Lupin immediately. _

_Headmaster Dumbledore _

I passed the note to Neville and Draco.

"I think we should go this time," said Neville.

"I agree," Draco said hesitantly.

I frowned. "How badly hurt is Nott according to rumor?"

"Pretty bad, in a way... He's not dying as far as rumor goes," said Hermione, " but they say Madame Pomfrey can't help him."

"We'll go," I said. Dumbledore stood moments later and left the hall, Remus followed like a wolf pretending tameness before a master. We got up and met Remus, who had lagged in the hall.

"Are you going to speak with him?"

"I guess, but I suspect foul play," I said.

We went up to the gargoyle and Remus told it the password.

We ascended the spiral staircase and Neville reached out to knock on the door but it opened before his knuckles touched the wood.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice.

We entered and were invited to sit down. I refused, as did the others, I didn't like the feel of the room. I had once felt welcomed here but now I felt something was being hidden. I didn't see anything out of place, even the silver instruments I had destroyed were replaced. Fawkes was gone, that was not uncommon, but I took it as a sign of trouble.

"Now," said Dumbledore, "I would like you to tell me what you saw happen."

I stared at him, knowing there was some sleight of hand going on somewhere. I wasn't even sure Dumbledore was responsible for it; I was willing to bet that he was not. "Why don't we show you," I suggested nodding to where I knew the pensieve was kept.

"That won't be necessary," said Dumbledore sounding grim.

Draco started the tale and I took over when it was my turn. I still felt unsure of the room and grew more uneasy as I went on; as if the air was trying to solidify around me. I finished the recounting though and Dumbledore watched us for some time after; considering each of us in turn. The look on his face confirmed my unease; I had been in so much trouble over the last six years that I knew where his true opinion stood even if it was not the one he spoke. I knew he thought we were telling the truth; he always knew, not once had I been able to lie to him successfully though more than once he had let my lies slide. Dumbledore closed his eyes in one long blink and I felt it too. As quickly as that, I constructed a shield. No less than seven aurors appeared from under invisibility cloaks.

"Thank you, Dumbledore," said the first. He was tall and blonde; I instantly disliked him. "Now, the students from the hall testified that night. They predicted that that would be your story." I almost broke in there, to protest the clear bias and how twisted the logic of that statement was, but the man continued, "but, on account of the fact that Nott is being moved to St. Mungo's we decided we should hear what you have to say." I continued my glare; matching his gaze for every word. "They said Malfoy came out of that hidden passage way and attacked Nott who defended himself. They froze, stunned by the sudden attack. Admittedly, they should have run to find a teacher but we can forgive them that mistake. Potter, you then came down the same passageway as Malfoy and continued the attack. You trapped those poor students between you and a wall of fog. Impressive magic for a sixth year," the man sneered. "You cast a spell on Nott then, what was it?"

"I cast nothing on Nott and the fog was not particularly advanced and was nothing more than thick, it wouldn't have hurt them. I merely deflected his spells back into his followers. He cast the killing curse on me but I conjured a mirror between us and that is what harmed him."

"We have checked his wand and he did not cast the killing curse at any point."

"Then he has deceived you," I growled, furious.

"Mr. Potter, may I see your wand?"

I handed it to the man.

'How long has it been since I used it,' I wondered. I had cast maybe four-dozen spells over the summer and none since then. The end of school last year I had hardly used magic at all. In the ministry I had tried to cast _crucio_ on Bellatrix Lestrange. 'How many spells back will they look?'

'_Priori Incantatum_,' the man intoned.

The history of my wand unfurled backwards. It reversed the simple spells I had used last summer, showing ghosts of their effects. Then it came to what I feared. The mist showed a person writhing in agony, "_crucio_," squeaked the wand in a voice that could have been mine.

The man dropped the wand as if it were poisonous. The spell was broken.

"Harry Potter, you are under arrest for the use of an Unforgivable Curse."

My friends stood shocked. I however did not stand still. I froze the aurors and picked up my wand.

"Let's go," I said and left letting the others follow as they wished. We were in the Room of Requirement before anyone spoke. "I'll fix some tea and explain everything," I offered before setting about making tea the long way instead of just imagining it into being.

Seven minutes later we were all seated around the fireplace. I told them all the secrets of that day I had tried to cast _crucio_ on Bellatrix after Sirius had fallen through the veil; that I had wanted her to suffer as he had, I wanted her to feel devastated like I did, I wanted her to lose everything that she had made any other person lose, and how much I had wanted that revenge. I then told them about what Dumbledore had told me that night. That Prophecy, murder or be murdered. I did it calmly, though every other part of me was trying to escape that thought.

"I had never intended to tell you and certainly not like this. It could have been you Neville," I finished.

Neville sat there looking at his cup. "I … I … I, thanks Harry."

I stared at him. Something like relief and maybe a little awe ran through me, it felt too much like ice in my blood to be comfortable.

Then, I felt Draco watching me. I spread my hands, asking 'what else is there?' My teacup sat in the air unsupported.

Remus shook his head slightly. "The world is turned upside down," he said.

I could only agree with him. 'What is Dumbledore up to? He seemed cornered when we left but still slightly smug.' I wondered if he told the aurors that that was what I would do. I thought that was probably the case; I always forgot how clever that man was. Remus left after telling me that he forgave me for keeping the secrets and casting that curse. We sat and talked about other things trying to keep the tone light. It didn't last for long.

"The paper will know by now," said Draco.

"Yeah, I bet they've pulled out all the stops to find out about this one," I sighed. I didn't really care anymore about the media. The ministry's involvement bothered me. Hogwarts had been run on its own terms for centuries, well with the exception of last year and Umbridge. I rubbed the back of my hand briefly.

Neville shuddered. I knew the prophecy had unnerved him; I understood that well enough. Though by the look in his eyes I thought he was going to shoulder the burden with me whether I liked it or not. Draco got up and moved into the other room. When he was out of earshot I told Neville, "I don't envy you." Neville seemed to relax somewhat with that comment, as though he feared that I would resent him.

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. On a somewhat sad note, I am going to be outside of internet access for a few days so this is the last chapter you will get until I have returned to the modern world. On a happier note, I had a pumpkin pasty today and it was delicious._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	13. Before the Court

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirteen: Before the Court

The next morning we didn't bother going down to breakfast. Draco took his paper from the delivery owl as we walked down to the kitchens. It was front-page news.

**Boy-Who-Lived Betrays the Wizarding World,** it claimed. Below that it said, _Harry Potter Casts an Unforgivable._ The reporter told a woeful story of how the Boy-Who-Lived was seduced by the Dark Arts. The story continued in detail from the point of view of the other students. It also said Nott was now at St. Mungo's suffering from nothing. I read that the specialists were stunned. Then I found in a footnote that the aurors sent to take me into custody were still stuck. I chuckled, but I released the spell, and then pointed out the side note to Draco.  
"Serves them right," he said.

We had reached the kitchen and I reached up to tickle the pear. We stepped across the threshold and I was bombarded by a house elf with mismatched socks.

"Harry Potter came to see Dobby," squealed an elf with large bat-ears.

Draco nearly dropped the paper on the floor. "Dobby?" The elf looked up shocked.

"Harry, what is you doing with him," and then he stopped looking horrified at almost insulting his former master, the expression passed in an instant and Dobby continued to glare at Draco.

"We're friends now," I explained. "Now, I believe we need cups of tea and breakfast for those two. Thanks."

"You is not going up to the hall?"

"No." Dobby scurried around and brought us a tray soon after.

"Thank you," said Neville.

The paper had continued to run stories on Nott's condition beside its usual tripe regarding me. I read one of the articles on Tuesday morning. The specialists said that Nott was suffering from an overdose of life. That bit of irony was unbearably funny; Draco thought so too when I pointed it out. A second article lower on the page was calling for immediate action towards my arrest and imprisonment. There had already been several attempts to arrest me, mostly at meal times. The ministry was still under the impression that I was someone they had control over. Law enforcement officers had come the first time; they had met me and my friends on our way out of the hall. They had held up a pair of handcuffs, or rather the magical equivalent. I passed them with a nod and disappeared up the stairs, vanishing on the top step, bringing my friends into invisibility as well. As for any action towards my arrest I was having none until they gave it due process and proceeded by law, (which was significantly more polite than Muggle proceedings, or it was supposed to be.)

* * *

Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny and the three of us Herons sat at the end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall one evening. Harry took a sip of tea and set it back down on the air next to him. He was finishing reading an article about a recent attack on a house in London. Death Eaters had left no trace, other than the Dark Mark. No one was injured and nothing removed or broken in the house. A suspicious case; Harry had expressed that it might be a bluff for a traitor going into hiding or some way for the ministry to be thrown off a lead. Neville was sitting across from him and reading the other side of the paper as Harry held it. I was reading another editorial about the Nott Incident, as it was being called, over Harry's shoulder. I was just finishing as an owl came swooping down low over the table, winging our paper. It landed smoothly in front of Neville. Harry folded the paper and stared at the owl and I slipped the paper out of his hands. Neville took the letter from it, opened it and read the words. A smile slowly crept across his face.

"She's alright." I looked up. "Gran, she's alright, she went into hiding this was the first letter she could write," Neville explained.

"That's wonderful."

"Yeah, but I can't write back, no owls. It's safer that way, I guess, she's going to write again in six weeks, She's made arrangements with Dumbledore for me to stay somewhere this summer, so I guess it means I won't be going home..."

"Does it say where you'll be?"

"Just says somewhere."

Harry looked towards the Entrance Hall and I followed his gaze, a pair of Aurors, both trying to go unnoticed, entered the Great Hall. "Here's trouble," Harry muttered, nodding towards the two, having already experienced one attempted arrest. It had failed due to a drastic underestimation on their part. I took out my wand not sure they would be so unprepared this time. Harry took another sip of tea and saw from the corner of his eye that I was gripping my wand firmly.

"No need for that," Harry watched as the aurors came up the aisle, he pretended he wasn't paying attention to them, appearing to have an engrossing conversation with our group of friends. I was having trouble ignoring them until the Aurors came and stood on either side behind Harry. Harry carefully ignored them, continuing the argument he had started with Hermione who was sitting next to Neville. She was having a harder time keeping up the conversation; her eyes flicked towards the Aurors every few seconds. The Aurors seized Harry's shoulders and had their wands pointed at his throat in the same motion. The whole hall was silent at this point, gaping at the quiet interaction at the Gryffindor table.

"Harry Potter, you are under arrest," said one, prattling off a list of crimes that seemed to have grown since I had last heard it. Harry took a sip of tea. Setting down the cup he threw back his head and laughed; it sounded haunted, maybe slightly insane, the way I imagined Black sounded when he was captured the first time. But below that was true mirth, something only Harry could find in this situation. I tensed, such laughter from Harry was a dangerous thing.

"Oh is that what you're here for? I thought someone had finally knocked some sense into the ministry. I believe you're looking for some of Nott's friends over there." He waved vaguely across the Hall.

"Come with us, Mr. Potter." They put pressure on his shoulders trying to impress upon him their importance and influence.

Harry's image shattered like stressed glass, became smoky blackness and swept across the table, reassembling itself. Harry rolled his eyes as the aurors fired spells. He spun away, disappearing and reappearing on alternate steps. The spells hit the far wall after bulleting over the ducking students' heads. The aurors went after him with vengeance; it was long since they had met an opponent that was able to out play their magic. Their faces turned red with effort and frustration as Harry slipped across the floor easily escaping them. Something I'm sure they thought impossible with the supposed state of his health. Occasionally, I saw spells actually hit him but their purpose was not fulfilled. Harry pulled the aurors onward letting them get within reach of him; sometimes he'd let them grasp his robes or once his wrist and then he would melt out of their hands, become like smoke again, untouchable and impossible to contain. He led them across the Hall, up and down aisles and across tables; he spent some time standing on Ravenclaw's table, the students crowded away; and the candles flickered, several sputtering out as he passed. His image folded in on itself and a black dove darted through the tapers. Far from looking like a prey animal it seemed as fierce as any hawk. Its shape grew smaller and smaller, once it was above the Gryffindor table, the size of a dormouse, it tumbled out of the air and grew into Harry sitting in his seat. He took a sip of tea from the cup that had been floating in the air undisturbed. The students who were still ducking straightened, looking around. The others watched either Harry or the Aurors warily depending on whom they felt more threatened by. Ron's jaw was slack; Hermione looked at Harry and then tapped Ron's chin. A small twist of amusement was present on her lips before it changed to a worried frown as she glanced back at the Aurors.

Ron shook his head, "wow." It was the first bit of impressive magic he had seen since the duel with Dumbledore, and Harry hadn't really shone any ability then, other than not be touched by the spells. Harry raised an eyebrow at me, a quirk to his lips. He let Neville and me eavesdrop on the Aurors' conversation, though I do not think he let the others.

I heard one of them curse.

"Come on, he's got to be exhausted by now, you've read about his disorder, he's unhealthy. Now, while he's tired."

"No, look if he can do that much being unhealthy," there was a low whistle of disbelieve, "no, we need more Aurors."

"Now, he's winded now."

"No, I'm not even sure it's Potter over there any more, or if it was him that led us across the Hall," the voice was lowered, "I don't think anyone but Dumbledore can do that."

Harry let the hearing drop, chuckling. "As if they knew it was me sitting here in the beginning."

The Aurors left looking like two dogs that had just lost a fight with a kitten.

"Why didn't Dumbledore stop them," asked Hermione.

"He can't legally, I imagine," I said, I had had wizarding law beaten into me from the moment I could understand speech; etiquette and pure-blood society had also been high on father's list. Harry shrugged. "Harry did put a student in St. Mungo's, admittedly for an overdose of life," I couldn't help snickering, "Ministry technically has every right to try to arrest him. Though they should have summoned him to a hearing where he could then be taken into custody; that's how it's supposed to be done."

"Not that they'll succeed," said Ron still somewhat impressed, he had seen the least of Harry's abilities. Luna, Ginny, and Hermione were aware of his skills if they only saw them infrequently. Neville and I were so used to Harry either having a pair of disembodied hands taking notes or the other series of double images that surrounded Harry like two realities existing in one spot that we had come to ignore the oddities.

Harry grinned, "I wouldn't count on that, it's been lucky that they haven't tried sheer numbers to overwhelm me."

"So modest and handsome," sighed Ginny, teasingly. The comment sent Luna and her into a fit of giggles. A smile jerked at the corner of Hermione's mouth as Harry blushed.

* * *

Over the next few days, the wizarding public was in a quandary, half could not believe the reports about Harry's magic and nature, and many immediately jumped with the ministry. Harry just ignored them, sorting the mail; he burned the hostile, but sometimes read the friendly on whatever whim gripped him at the time. A week after being called to the Headmaster's office Harry received a letter from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He showed it to Draco and me.

It said in green ink:

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter, _

_The Wizengomat hereby summons you to a court hearing. You are to arrive at 9:00 in the morning on April 1. You are accused of: _

There followed a short list. It included _being an unregistered Animagus. _I looked at the signature and rolled my eyes wondering how Fudge was still minister.  
"Are you going?" I asked.

"I think so," said Harry, "I can make them listen maybe."

"Only you," muttered Draco.

"Listen, yes. Respond favorably maybe not," Harry grinned.

I glanced at the ceiling, stormy gray in the early spring. The hall darkened slightly as the candles sputtered out, I could guess that Harry had put them out to relieve frustration or whatever he was feeling. Dumbledore waved a hand and the flames grew again.

"That's this Friday you know," said Draco.

"Yeah, you want to come with me?"

"Sure, no ancient runes."

* * *

Friday was much too quick in coming. Thursday night I was awake late with shaky nerves. When I did fall asleep my dreams were the worst I had ever seen, but in the morning they provided a comfort, nothing could be as bad as the events of those nightmares. Self doubt plagued the images, suddenly unable to do any magic at all arrested by the ministry and thrown in Azkaban. There Voldemort cornered me, toying with me, all too much like a cat with a mouse. I woke, sweating, and immediately conjured a mug of tea and lit the fire in the hearth. It was early, too early to be awake, but too late for it to be worth falling asleep again. Draco found me in the armchair staring at the flickering light an hour later

.

* * *

"You slept?" Harry paused. I hadn't really asked it as a question. I knew it had been a hard night.

"Some," he answered anyway, "dreams."

I simply nodded. With a little more than three hours before the hearing Harry didn't look very nervous. I studied him for several long moments; he looked reserved, calm and confident. I watched as he sipped from his cup nonchalantly; he knew I was trying to think of some reason for him to not follow through on this foolishness. Neville was more out spoken about the matter but I felt something was going to go very wrong. He had acknowledged that such could happen; sometimes I even thought he meant it to.

He conjured a mug before me. I took it from the air, still thinking. "Thanks Harry," my mouth twisted into a smirk that I hoped Harry didn't see. Odd that Harry so carefully watched after his friends, even those not as close as the three of us, but his own health was questionable. Perhaps it was a Gryffindor thing, selflessness. I sipped the tea and the news owl swept through the window. Early, I thought.

I unfurled the paper and sighed. There were going to be several editions of the paper today.

**Harry Potter on Trial for Dark Arts **

I could almost see the other smaller editions laid out for print, just waiting for the information. Potter turned to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Ministry under Scrutiny after Potter Trial, it all depended on how Harry spoke. It might not even matter, the way the minister and the other officials where behaving. Neville tapped the top of the page, startling me, I had not seen him come in.

"Come on, breakfast."

* * *

The three of us walked down to the Great Hall. There were Aurors at the entrance but none made a move to stop us. I sat close to the professors' table at the end of Hufflepuff. Dumbledore looked directly at me, raising an eyebrow. I shrugged, it was not 'I don't know,' it was 'I will do what I have to, regardless of consequences.' And with that I finally understood what Dumbledore had been trying to do for me my whole life, he was not trying to do anything, he had always wanted a complete life for me. It was a mistake thinking that was possible but he had tried. We had both made mistakes, we both had caused death, one way or another. Was it a mistake to resist the Ministry, yes in all likelihood, but I didn't see how I could do anything else; it was like forming the DA last year necessary but potentially dangerous. Hermione and Ron walked through the doors and sat behind me at Gryffindor. I turned around so my back was to the table. Hermione did the same.

"Good luck Harry," she said breathlessly. Her tone had the sense of an upcoming speech. I didn't make any move to stop her words, but Hermione didn't speak immediately. "I don't know what to say, Harry. You know better than I what you're going to do or what you're capable of so I guess I can't badger you about anything. I know you'll be safe, be wise and make them listen. They can't decide which way to jump. V v v voldermort," she swallowed, "could attack and they wouldn't be ready for anything. He could walk in kill Fudge and leave before anyone was out of his seat. They don't know what they're doing other than trying to look like they've got a grip on the problem. If you even hint at being a threat to their power they'll try to do you in to protect it. Be careful." She took a deep breath.

"I will, Hermione, they can't do anything to me," I tried to reassure her.

"They can," she said, I could see she was nearly in tears.

"They can't as long as I think they can't."

She launched herself off her bench and hugged me, her grip nearly suffocating. Ron turned around from his plate, his ears turning red. Hermione released me and sat back down.

"I'll be fine."

Draco, who had been listening, turned and nodded. "He will be," he smiled.

"It's okay, Hermione, really, it's nearly nine, we'll see you later, I promise." Draco, Neville and I got up and left the Hall. In the entrance hall I gripped their shoulders, closed my eyes and frowned. Then we were gone, leaving the Aurors that were going to escort us via portkey, behind.

We reappeared in the Atrium of the Ministry. The fireplaces were lit and witches and wizards came through them, the next stepping out before the one ahead of them had gone more than three strides. I hid our faces so that we could walk through the crowd unmolested. Hogwarts was separate from the rest of the Wizarding World, I knew that some of my peers hated me, hated my supposed betrayal, but few had taken action to any noticeable extent. I was not so confident about the rest; I had received enough threatening mail to suspect that some of the more brazen witches and wizards might just attack me on sight. We passed the golden statue fountain. It was restored: the sight of it made my stomach turn over. I swallowed hard; the goblin and the house elf turned their backs on the humans and the centaur turned, its front legs stepping down into the basin. His look was proud, but the witch and wizard ignored the movement still holding their wands in vain self-importance. I led the way down to the court room, but at the door I stopped.

"You go in and sit down, I have to do this the right way, or they can ignore me, denounce me, call me a dark wizard. I can't let them start that, and even this might not make the difference, but it must be done." Neville and Draco looked as if they would protest but then their glances turned to the ground and they went through the doors. I waited until the ministry rang with the sound of clock-bells sounding out nine o'clock. On the fourth stroke I opened the doors and entered the courtroom. The crowd was smaller than I had expected, people sat in the shadowy reaches of the highest benches, The Wizengamot was arranged in their seats, Fudge centered among them, and the media, reporters from every wizarding news source in Britain and elsewhere, were fussing for the best point of view. I walked forward until the room saw me. The hush was instantaneous and eerie. It held not even a whisper. Fudge made a signal and four aurors strode towards me and then dementors came out of the other lower doors. The world nearly went black then, I struggled but no happy thought came to throw against them. So I threw my other consuming remembrances instead; all my nightmares concentrated and four black animals gathered from the shadows in the room. My vision was blurring, I knew I was on my knees, hands waving before me but I saw Padfoot stand before me, head lowered, growling. My world stabilized but clarity was slow returning; I could sense the other animals moving, a black coated werewolf, a large fox and a horse. They moved without gravity, charging dementors leaping into the cloaks faces, and running out from under the hem. They left the cloaks as collections of black on the stone floor and with each of the six destroyed I was warmer. Faster than the cameras could flash twice I was standing again the animals gone except for the feel of Padfoot at my side. He was there alive, I knew it but I dared not look down at him and see what I felt for illusion. The Aurors moved to my sides, and two cuffed my hands behind my back. I let them and when they stepped back I moved onto the dais in the center.

Then I spoke, "I am Harry James Potter and I have come to answer the summons of the Ministry of Magic to be tried for the crimes of which I am accused."

Fudge answered, "You have stated your name, does no one speak on your behalf?"

"No, I speak, because no other person can know my actions."

"You are accused of..." the list was the same as in the letter, "The Wizengamot finds you guilty, you are to serve out your sentence in Azkaban."

"No sentence has been given. Guilt has not been proven, no action weighed against law." Then I dropped the formal tones of wizard court. "I will stand trial, Minister, not this nonsense that is supposed to appease the public's call for my arrest."

"Guilt has been decided; you are arrested, and rightfully imprisoned." The aurors moved forward two taking my upper arms. They lifted my second image off the floor and took me out of the room. I remained on the dais and when the other Harry had vanished from sight, I returned to visibility handcuffs notably missing.

"I am Harry James Potter and I have come to answer the summons of the Ministry of Magic to be tried for the crimes of which I am accused."

There was uproar among Fudge's buddies in the Wizengamot. Clearly I was supposed to disappear as a political figure after my arrest, but my arrest had failed. I had left with the aurors and reappeared on the dais as if I had never been touched. A repeating problem.

Now they feared me; I had been a threat to their power, now they feared I was a threat against their lives. While I still had most of their attention I said, "I am guilty of one thing, defending myself and my friends, I cast no spell against Nott. My wand shows the cruciatus curse being cast. I wanted that curse to work against Bellatrix Lestrange who killed my godfather, but I never cast it properly. I am incapable of casting that curse against any living thing."

"Are you really an Animagus at so young an age?" The question came shouted from the media. I guess since no one in the ministry ranks was speaking the reporters were going to do it for them.

"No, I am not an Animagus, I can turn into several animals," I shifted through the forms of dove, horse and dog, but keeping the panther hidden, it was not my Animagus form either but it was one I wished to be secret, "but I have not taken on the traits of any animal as my own."

There was a loud magical noise stilling the other questions from the media. I guess Fudge had made it to call order back to the room. I refocused my attention on the Wizengamot, meeting and staring down anyone who would hold my gaze; few did. I would not convince these men. Those that were on my side were minority. Fear and perhaps money held the rest with Fudge or other loyalties that opposed me.

More aurors appeared clearly in an attempt to arrest me; I did not let them come close enough to touch me. Several strained against the barrier, determined to carry out their duty. I pushed back, flinging both arms out. The aurors were shoved back, stumbling.

"Mr. Potter," said Fudge, "actions have consequences..."

I wasn't sure what point he was trying to bring back to the trial but I took up the strand, "Yes, they do, minister. I charge you with neglect, deceit while in public office, and taking bribes, and I am sure that is only the beginning."

I had not planned to disrupt the ministry infrastructure that day. But once I had spoken the words 'I charge you' it was as if the room split. The media which was already in uproar with the trial of a one-time hero was in hysterics at the thought that they had neither enough time nor enough pages to deal with all the stories coming either to termination or fruition. The room lost all order; I had broken a spell I had not realized could be there. I had always regarded Fudge as incompetent, but somehow he had held his place in the ministry despite Voldemort's return and previous bumbling. Now I saw, as all his work fell apart, that he had been puppet and puppeteer. His strings broke, and someone found handcuffs for him. Everyone moved, most of the spectators picked up the hems of their robes and fled the courtroom. The Wizengamot was on its feet arguing and I saw one man throw a punch at his fellow, wand forgotten completely. The media had spilled onto the courtroom floor and fought for the best coverage and the chance to interview me. I saw the prophet later that day; my picture was on the front, one still figure, quiet and patient, with the Wizengamot in chaos in the background. The heading was **Ministry in Shambles, **_Harry Potter leaves trial and Wizengamot in devastation._

* * *

Neville and I had slipped around the dueling members of the Wizengamot and stood a little bit behind Harry. We returned to Hogwarts and a mere hour after us the second edition of the prophet was delivered. The format of the paper was odd; each main story had its own section accompanied by relevant events. The whole paper had a ribbon tied around it with scarlet lettering, Ministry in Shambles, as said the heading of the first page. The second said: **Minister sacked after Potter Trial **

I smirked; amazed with the speed the media had collected information. There were four additional pages with similar themes and one exploring the threat Harry posed to wizarding society. The author was subtly satirical, a fact I doubted some people would pick up on.

"So, it begins," said Neville quietly.

I went ahead and read the article, even if most of it was the typical tripe and hysteria. Father had taught me well how to shift out the facts, that was one of the few lessons I valued though the rest were almost as firmly adhered to my soul. "Well, they're off your back for a while at least. Don't think they've dropped the subject."

"No, I doubt they ever will," agreed Harry, "They still hound after Dumbledore for one reason or another, ill or otherwise, and two galleons says they think I am more dangerous." It was an odd comment, from someone else it might have sounded vain but Harry spoke it with humbleness. I knew he did not wield half the destructive force he could.

"No bet, it's really only because they don't understand Half-blood Disorder," said Neville, his voice was edged with bitterness.

"I've seen the words 'magic, the likes of which haven't been seen before' more than fifty-six times; fifty-six is where I stopped counting." Hermione joined the conversation, "It's just they can't imagine magic without wand-waving and words. I have as much trouble but I know it. They've forgotten the legends wizards learn as children. Magic was once exactly what the wielder thought. Then weaker wizard's found magical foci, wood, stone, what have you, with those they were stronger. Each generation depended more and more on foci. Until Merlin was legend, and his staff was magical, instead of just a walking stick. Wizards forget that those stories are merely warped reality. Some aren't even that warped."

"Regardless the next minister is as likely to try to confine me in some fashion as leave me alone."

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this considerably longer chapter. I have returned to the modern world and therefore internet access so updates should continue as a daily occurrence._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions _


	14. Full Moon Rescue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fourteen: Full Moon Rescue

We attended classes on Monday. Transfiguration was for once interesting. McGonagall had launched us into Animagus transformation and as example she transformed into her cat without warning during the lecture. We were not practicing the actual transformation; it was just a subject of study.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked, my second hands stopped and faded, "I believe you know the transformation?"

"I must protest that I know only a fashion of the transformation it is not a true Animagus form," I said tentatively, unsure of exactly what she was expecting of me.

"Why don't you show us then, perhaps we will be able to see the difference between mine and yours?"

It was not the question I had been expecting, but I stood up on the desk, dropping my invisibility. I jumped and twisted into the dove, then flew around the room and fell out of the air as myself, landing gracefully. Hermione smiled, she really loved magic of all sorts; I think she was almost as enamored with it as I was.

McGonagall nodded. "How long did it take you to learn this transformation?"

"I've been working on it since June. In the great hall though, that was the first instant transformation."

"Please take your seat, thank you for your example." The class went on and I resumed my invisibility if more out of habit then anything. The teachers and Dumbledore seemed ill inclined to force me into Pomfrey's custody as of late.

It continued to rain. Voldemort had been active in the English countryside and the Prophecy dragged at my mind though my scar had not bothered me since the ministry incident last June. The warrant for my arrest had not been revoked but with the ministry near revolution it had not been acted on. I had seen several articles in the _Daily Prophet_ about me; the number of articles suggested that every employee had gotten the chance to publish her opinion. The public's view had wavered for a few days about the trial and subsequent events and had then been distracted by a series of attacks on mostly wizarding villages.

I stood at the door to the room of requirement impatient to go and also distracted. It was the first time I had not been busy with one thing or another since the trial. Through the week I had still felt that presence at my heel, or just ahead of me. It was Sirius, I knew it. The heaviness of his death pulled at me more than it ever had. As I thought about it, each day, it seemed less real and the heaviness that had hung about me since June became merely an absence, an agonizing absence. All I had to do was go back and reach in and pull him back to our side of the curtain. I could see myself doing it, I had dreamed of doing it several times; wasn't that what I had done? Were those dreams or memories, I couldn't remember or I couldn't tell the difference. I had broken free of Remus' grip and run to the curtain and reached through. I had done that, I remembered how cold it was, the air was so dense right there; I could still feel it. Why had I chased Lestrange up to the Atrium? Why had I done that?

"Almost finished," Draco was sitting at the table scrawling off the last words of an essay.

"Ok, Neville, come on," I called, what had I been thinking about? I didn't remember; there was a warmth hovering around my shin but I could find no explanation for it. "It's time to go, the full moon is tonight." Draco set down his quill and Neville came out of his room sucking a scratch on his hand where he had probably gotten into a fight with his Herbology project. Draco muttered a spell to heal it.

We met up with Remus outside his office. He looked haggard, as he always did on the full moon. We trudged out onto the grounds near to the forest and waited. The way Remus walked was already slinking and fluid, predator-like. I had picked up the motion, over the last year, as a constant stride, but Remus's walk was distinctive only at the full moon. We Herons flanked him ready to transform when he did.

The moon rose above the horizon, and we each became our animals. I watched the werewolf carefully. I knew Remus had his mind but the instincts did not disappear even with the potion, the same way a true Animagus had all the instincts of their animal. Neville trotted off into the woods and the rest of us followed. Draco swept down clipping one of my ears with a wing and flew off out of reach. I shouldered Remus and we went galloping through the underbrush. Near midnight, I pulled in front of Remus, stopping him suddenly. I prowled forward knowing Draco was perched above us watching. It was Neville who had indicated we should stop and I went to him. We were well outside the Hogwarts grounds by now and into the surrounding mountains. We crept forward, Remus right behind us. The undergrowth started to thin and yellow light drifted into the forest.

* * *

"Where've you taken me?" I demanded, even though I felt groggy with whatever potion they had used and the multiple injuries I had already sustained. I had expected the punishment to be carried out before my father and his court. Perhaps his embarrassment was too great to allow me the honor of that. I was blinded by a rough scarf tied to cover my eyes. My other senses compensated, I heard the barest rustle nearby, a second party to witness my torture, though they must not be with my captors or they would not stand off at such a distance. I could smell something vaguely familiar, wolfish but not, it reminded me of the few times I had knelt before that wizard. A werewolf, that was the scent I was catching, but the smell was not wild, not driven mad, like the ones serving at Voldemort's side. I thought there might be a cat there too, not a wild one though.

"That doesn't matter. Now, traitor what do you have to say?" A spell was whispered, and I was trapped in waves of tingling pain. "The Dark Lord and your own liege are not pleased with you. Will you serve them now?" I think a second cast the same spell on me increasing both power and pain. I could not help shrieking. Despite the pain the thought of a second group nearby held my thoughts.

Then the spell lifted. "There is a werewolf nearby." I said, not intending to speak out loud. "A large cat, too." I heard more of the Death Eaters move away, breaking twigs, clearly moving into a thicker part of the forest.

"That is not important. Where do your loyalties lie? Will you not submit?" The spell was applied again more powerfully than before and increasing. I was driven senseless by the torture, I had been under the curse before today, and I seemed to have a unique defense against the spell, maybe all vampires did, if so they did not speak of it. I would be senseless under the spell, my mind hidden in a safe box separate from everything else, so I was protected from lasting madness. Physical exhaustion persisted but recovery was total, unlike humans held under the curse for too long. Perhaps all vampires were protected like that. It was, at best, unlikely that I would carry such unique protection. I refocused outside the pain and heard something large moving, without concern for sound, towards us. The spell snapped off suddenly and there was a warp of magical backlash. My bonds and blindfold disappeared but I was still temporarily delirious and shaky, I had no way of knowing how long it might last. I saw a panther maul the Death Eater who had cast the spell, and then it transformed into a short human obscured in impossible shadows. He dodged spells with grace and attacked faster than anyone I had seen, including my own kin. After a mere two minutes fighting, the Death Eaters retreated. The young man, I could see he was no more than seventeen, reached down for me and we shifted through space to farther into the forest. I heard the company behind us apparate, thinking we were gone completely. I sensed more than saw two non-animal animals turn and run, and the werewolf was already some distance ahead of them. The wizard half-supporting me changed into a horse and I mounted at the invitation of a dropped shoulder. I gripped the mane, but I think some spell held me or I would have fallen long before we reached our destination. The horse gained on its fellows leading the pack through the forest. I fell into weariness and then a stupor. I did not realize we had stopped until I slipped sideways from the horse's back. Another spell caught me and laid me out on the grass. Feeling that the curse had removed, returned, and I felt the scratches on my arms and one deep slash on my upper arm, as well as the numberless bruises. I saw the shadowy shapes of my rescuers change back to human and come to stand over me. The werewolf was older than the other two who were the same age as the horse shape-shifter. He was the shortest of the group, with wild black hair, and a thin face with delicate features. The other two boys were taller; one with blond hair, and the other dark brown.

The blond spoke, "he's a vampire."

The werewolf touched my lip exposing a fang and then looked into my eyes; his face was too close to focus on. The short boy knelt and on his forehead, under his fringe, there was a scar. That pulled at my memory. I felt the touch of magic on me, and the scratches healed as if they had never been. My senses sharpened, and I tensed; this situation could be as dangerous as being with the Death Eaters.

The Werewolf spoke, "you're safe here. We won't harm you. What's your name?"

I looked at him. "My name is Vox, werewolf. Where am I?"

"You are on Hogwarts grounds," said the short boy with a little venom. "His name is Remus, and these other two are Draco and Neville." he indicated each in turn, "I am Harry."

"I meant no offense, Harry. I guess it is Harry Potter, is it not?" My mind had finally made the connection between the scar and The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry nodded. I sat up, putting a hand to my head; it was not a headache, just a fuzziness. "Thank you for rescuing me. I openly disagreed with the Lord of the Night and Voldemort and was therefore tortured. Thank you."

"It is against my nature to let harm befall anyone." Harry offered a hand to help me stand. I was unsteady on my feet. "The castle is not far from here."

_Author's Note: I would like to inform you of how lucky all of you are. I was almost too exhausted to post this tonight but here it is. I hope you enjoyed it._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	15. A New Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifteen: A New Friend

Draco and Neville supported Vox in the direction of the castle and I walked next to Remus who was the weakest of the four residents.

"You have gained a powerful ally. Vampires are fiercely loyal even if it is not obvious," Remus told me.

The walk up to the castle became a labor for all of us. We reached the great oak doors that led into the Entrance Hall and stepped through. Bells rang out, clanging above our heads; Remus, Vox, and I lifted hands to our ears, a lingering sensitivity. Dumbledore appeared from the Great Hall and the bells stopped.

"Stop right there. Remus? Who do you have with you? A vampire?"

I stepped forward. "Headmaster, I rescued Vox from Death Eaters outside the grounds last night." Students crowded into the doorway to the Great Hall but I ignored their ability to hear. "He was being tortured. If it pleases him, he will be staying with us." After the trial at the ministry I was willing to be more forthcoming with Dumbledore but I wasn't going to let him rule my decisions. I marched my group up the marble staircase away from Dumbledore, that ghostly feel of Sirius right at my shoulder.

The room of requirement answered my need for an extra room. Remus was asleep on the couch almost instantly. I conjured tea for Draco, Neville, and myself though I was not sure what to offer Vox. Vox sat down in a chair and instantly there was a mug next to him though it had not been there before. Vox took it and sipped from it. He seemed to gain strength from it; certainly his tense shoulders relaxed.

* * *

"This is an interesting room," Vox said looking around.

"It's called the Room of Requirement."

Vox smiled toothily; fangs prominent. We learned that he was only just seventeen and a direct descendant of the Lord of the Night. Vampires were held as sub-human by ministry laws, much like werewolves. "We are not all blood-thirsty hunters, though I can not deny that some of us have more than earned the reputation. I think mostly the ministry fears our unregulated magicks; they are small things but often used cunningly. And when used in the pursuit of... we'll say nutrition... you can see why fear is the predominant reaction." He lowered his eyes briefly, then sipped from that goblet which I could now clearly tell was filled with blood. "I wish I could express wholly my gratitude," he paused choosing his words with some deliberativeness, "rescuing me was not outside expectation perhaps but welcoming me into your home with no knowledge of me was a gift I would have never hoped for. Thank you."

Vox slipped into the group like he had been a part of us for all our lives, in fact I quite forgot that he had not grown up with us. He spent his time in the Library when we were in class, but he was a constant companion the rest of the time if in a quiet way. He was most commonly to be found reading in the background, ears pricked toward any nearby conversation, often ready with an insight when you thought he had not been listening. In all things he was a gentleman, like all pure-bloods had trained to be and had never quite accomplished in my opinion. Granger in fact had fairly blushed when they met the first time and Vox had taken her hand and kissed the back. It had made Weasley go quite red. Vox had noticed that and diffused it with a self-deprecating comment, "Do not take offense, fair young maidens do not whet my appetite," and then he had made his smile all fang.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the full moon. I was nearly always driven to distraction by nightmares and school was sometimes the best rememdy. I think Draco realized the nightmares had grown worse; he left a bottle of dreamless sleep potion on my bedside table every night before he turned in. I was invariably awake later than he was. Beyond that the June incident at the ministry consumed me. I remembered Sirius falling through the veil, and chasing Bellatrix into the Atrium, being possessed by Voldemort. With all my dreams I couldn't tell that that was what had really happened. I could feel the cold of that other world when I had reached through and pulled Sirius back. Feel it as though I held snow in my bare hand.

There was a whine at my feet, Snuffles was curled with his head resting on my feet. I forgot all of my doubts.

"You can come back Sirius," I said, "no one here will turn you in. I regret the ministry has still not recognized your innocence, but then I have been convicted too."

He transformed back into a man, he looked so much healthier. His face was still thin, but it had color in it. His hair was half pulled back in a leather tie, he looked aristocratic, like the times I had seen Draco's father in the Ministry. He sat down on the sofa next to me.

"How is potions going?"

"It's better, Snape has finally set aside grudges, and perhaps since I partner with Draco, he doesn't suffer from my incompetence."

"That's good, is the old Cat around,"

"McGonagall treats us all fairly; I think she secretly enjoys having a student Animagus, even if she officially things I should register." I yawned, and the conversation stilled. Even so, we sat there until I fell asleep.

* * *

I was the first awake in the room of requirement, and I went out into the common room and stoked the fire back to life. Harry was asleep there. He stirred when I entered, and watched me move about my morning business. I walked out of the room to get the post that had been delivered. I came back in with it. When I first entered the room I would have sworn there was a large black dog at Harry's feet. It was gone, before I decided it was real. Neville came out shortly; we had classes starting in a little over an hour. I unfolded the paper and read. A teacup appeared at my elbow; Harry must be fully awake now. We rarely went down to breakfast anymore, Dobby was more than willing to bring us anything we wanted and we were inclined to avoid crowds especially with Vox amongst us.

We collected ourselves shortly and left the room of requirement. All day I swore I saw that dog weaving through the crowd or darting behind tapestries and around corners. I was so used to illusions surrounding Harry that most oddities about his person I took in stride and generally ignored, but the dog was separate from him. In the normal pattern of things Harry only kept up images close to himself, I could see no point for him to make the shadow of a dog. Unless he was going crazy, some people might say, but I knew Harry was not doing that. I decided not to concern myself about it. The world was presenting more important problems than a mere dog.

Voldemort had suddenly made several attacks against muggle towns and wizarding homes alike. The school was tense with it. Students passed through the halls in knots. Draco and I were taking a shortcut from charms, Harry had not attended, and when we turned the corner a group of students, masked, stood across our path. Spells were shot at us before we could turn back. The ambush was fast enough to catch us, Harry might have been quick enough to block the spells but his speed was unnatural. I was hit by a cutting curse, and Draco only just managed to dodge the lights shot at him. He disabled several of the attackers while I was left squinting through the blood oozing from a cut above my eyes. I blindly aimed and stupified two and then held a shield for Draco since my aim was lucky at best. When the masked students realized it was time to run they took their comrades and fled leaving no identities. Draco turned to me. He said none of the cuts were bad. I tried to stand but my ankle was unable to support me at any pace greater than a hobble.

"Come on hospital wing," said Draco. He helped me there, where Madame Pomfrey fixed me up. She had been run ragged with hallway 'accidents.' There had been many over the last few weeks, the culprits were perhaps too numerous or too well organized to be caught. Dumbledore had decreed that fourth year and below were to be escorted to and from class. Older students it was reasoned could defend themselves and were too busy with school work to have time to be escorted everywhere they went. It was a repeat of the basilisk attacks for those of us who had been at Hogwarts that year. Fortunately, all the injuries were simple fixes. A few cuts, bruises, and broken bones, no one had used the Unforgivables yet. We were all on edge about that, it was unlikely that those curses would be considered off limits by the attackers. A handful of students had gone home to families that were now missing members. Many families had gone abroad mainly outside of Europe as it was in uproar as well. Rumors flew through the school; Voldemort was outside of London, no he was near Birmingham, he wasn't in the country, he was marching on Hogsmeade. This only added to the fear. If you know where the threat is it is easy to ignore it or say it is too far away to be of panic. If Voldemort could slip out and kill you from any shadow… that was fearsome.

* * *

Exams loomed ahead of us but we felt well prepared for them. Sixth year exams weren't anything to be concerned about. It was NEWTs next year to panic about and some people already were. Harry was sitting in front of the fire, with a cup of tea and a charms theory book. Vox and I were sitting on the couch and Neville in the other chair. Harry yelled and slipped out of his chair one hand on his scar. His body shivered with the reaction to Voldemort, he was shaky and pale, like he had only just recovered from illness. Harry knelt, curled into the floor. I signaled Neville to explain to Vox and was by Harry in two steps. Neville had seen this before when the two had lived in Gryffindor tower and had warned me. With recent events I had been waiting for it. I pulled Harry into my arms until he stopped shaking. Vox had been ushered out of the room by Neville; I could hear the murmur of his voice explaining. Harry pulled away from me swiftly all appearances of weakness stifled, except for the slightest shake when he took his teacup from the air. Neville looked around the door frame and then came back into the room followed by Vox, who looked embarrassed. We resumed our seats, but Harry remained on the floor legs sprawled, shoulders curled around his teacup.

"Voldemort managed to do something. I don't know what." He said, coldly.

"Should Dumbledore know?" asked Neville

"He may already, he has spies."

With so little information speculation was worthless, so conversation turned away from the episode.

_Author's Note: I'm so glad to receive reviews on every chapter. It's wonderful to know that you are enjoying it._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	16. Sire's Curse

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixteen: Sire's Curse

The next morning we sat at the Hufflepuff table with Hermione, Ron and Ginny at our backs. The news owl dropped _The Daily Prophet _in Draco's lap. He unfolded it and I peered over his shoulder.

**Minister of Magic Helps Pass Law **

I began to read the article before I became completely disgusted with the editor.

_The Minister of Magic Zabini helped pass a law in the Wizengamot yesterday, by casting the deciding vote. This new law requires magical beings, such as werewolves, vampires, centaurs, and other almost wizards to register and be monitored by the Department of Magical Creatures. While previous laws have required such information as place of residence and occupation this new ordinance asks these beings to submit to vertiserum and tracking spells. _

I quit reading. "That is the bloody stupidest thing the ministry could do."

"Harry," said Vox, "do you think that was what Voldemort was so happy about?"

"Yes, or something that led to that. Don't register. It is absolutely insulting."

"I had no intention," Vox answered me smoothly.

I stood up. Remus wasn't at the head table, but then I saw him in the doorway. I motioned him over and sat down.

Hermione turned around; she must have read the article too. "Vox, I am so sorry, this is ridiculous." Ron nodded. "How can they think that it will do any good, the majority of that community will turn to Voldemort now."

"That might be the entire point," said Draco, "at least so far as the Dark Lord is concerned."

Vox was silent and shrunken. Remus reached us and sat down. I saw several of the stuffier teachers glare at Remus; disapproving of the public familiarity of his action towards the students. Draco mutely handed the paper to him. Remus read the first paragraph and paled.

Where I had stopped, he finished reading the article, quoting choice phrases when he couldn't believe what he was reading, "How vile," he said. "Do not fret, I'm not going to register. They're pretty dense to think anyone will... Look they've even printed the locations of registration stations. There's one in Hogsmeade." Remus's voice was tinged with disgust. I saw he was nearly in tears though.

"Come on let's go." We left and went out into the grounds. It was beginning to cloud over. Vox pulled out an umbrella to shield himself from the semi-present sun. Hermione, Ron, still with a piece of toast, and Ginny followed us. We sat down by the lake under one of the non-violent willows. We did try to discuss other things but tense silences crept into the conversation anyway. At least it was Saturday with no classes. At noon Ron and Ginny had to go for Quidditch practice. They both hugged Remus and trotted off through the drizzle towards the pitch. We stayed under the willow the rest of the afternoon trying to relax and forget the times we lived in.

The next weekend was a Hogsmeade visit. Remus, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and the four of us travelled in a group through the town. Zonko's was fun but everyone who had seen the twin's shop said Zonko's was second-rate. Honeyduke's had the largest crowd as usual. Everyone bought sweets; Vox got a month's supply of blood pops and even I escaped my disinterest in food and purchased a single bar of their best dark chocolate. We decided on the Three Broomsticks for drinks and headed that way. There was a booth outside that made my skin crawl. It was one of the registration points and there were several large, don't-mess-with-me, kind of wizards standing around nearby. We tried to walk past as though ignorant of the booth and the wizards but we were stopped. Vox's black umbrella was a dead giveaway.

"Vampire, have you registered?" asked one. A second scanned our group.

"A werewolf, too. Look, he's got yellow eyes." He was pointing at me not Remus; yellow eyes was a common feature among werewolves in their human forms though was not present in all werewolves and sometimes was found in wizards not affected by the condition. Madame Hooch had vividly yellow eyes, but I had a suspicion that that was because she was a hawk Animagus. The wizard spoke again, "two werewolves, this other one has them too." This time he indicated Remus and his tawny eyes.

"Have you three registered with the ministry?"

"No," I said.

"Then come over here please it will only take a moment."

I stepped forward. The tensions in the group shifted. Draco relaxed and I was sure he recognized the glint that was sure to show in my eyes. Remus tensed, he was probably concerned over my safety, though if he had glimpsed my face it might be because of the mischief he saw there. Over the months, he had seen enough of my trouble-making to know the look even if he often neglected to prevent the occurrence. Vox and Neville took their cues from Draco and relaxed but the other four stiffened.

"What do I need to do?" I made my voice sound willing and submissive.

"Give me your wrist," he pulled out a knife. I pretended to weakly pull away. The man made a cut down the side under the thumb; then he let the blood drip three times onto a piece of parchment. The blood traced out the words _disordine mezzo di anima_, my age, height and weight.

"You aren't a werewolf?"

I dropped my common mask that obscured my scar and dulled other distinctive features. I reset my posture, letting shadows curl around my pale-skinned, wild-haired image. The effect unsettled the two ministry employees. The man that had been holding my wrist backed away. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes." I said edging my voice with impatience and the hint of what I hoped sounded like a readiness to do violence. I turned my back to lead my friends into the pub.

The show clearly didn't dissuade them from completing their duty. The men stepped forward to block Vox and Remus' paths. "Stop, you two still need to register. Come on." One of them reached for Remus' arm and another for Vox.

"I would not touch them," I snarled, the words coming out in a fierce growl I had not intended. I shifted when they did not stop and collapsed the booth on top of one of their lanterns; I did not encourage the fire to spread, I just didn't bother to stifle it. "Move out of our way." With the fire slowly consuming their booth and the threat in my words they stepped down. I held the door for everyone and we found a table big enough for all of us to crowd around. Ron grinned at me; he had the typical Weasley appreciation of trouble even if he didn't actively pursue it like the rest of his family. I replaced my habitual disguise.

"Thanks Harry, but can they not now track you?" asked Vox.

"Oh, they could, if they still possessed a particular important document that I may or may not have filched," I held up the parchment which had continued to describe me and my whereabouts. It was an interesting bit of magic if not very sophisticated. The most interesting part was that the ministry had resorted to the use of blood magic, something they had banned due to its dark nature. I studied it a little longer and then pocketed it.

We ordered drinks and sat in the pub for about an hour.

"Let's go for a walk," Ginny suggested.

* * *

It had turned warmer outside, and my companions shed their scarves and hats. We left out the back door and headed up one of the paths towards the Shrieking Shack. We took a divergent path and stopped in one of the clearings; it was outside the limits of the village and technically out of bounds for the students, but with Remus tagging along that was of little concern and would likely not have been anyway. Ron had brought a set of gobstones and I conjured up a chess board.

"It's good to be off the grounds."

"Yeah."

"Harry, you probably shouldn't have collapsed the booth," Remus said later when the rest were involved in the gobstones.

"Me? Collapse the booth? Where ever did you get that idea?" I mocked lightly. "Remus, I'm afraid that is what it's going to take. You saw what he did to me and that was to a seemingly willing participant." I rubbed the spot on my wrist, it was long healed but I could almost feel it there the same way that cold world beyond the veil still clung to my hands. I looked around for Sirius and glimpsed him chasing small animals around the trees and turned back to Remus.

Remus smiled sadly. "Sirius was always the activist, your dad kept him in check or I think the ministry would be a much different color on the inside. He smashed the visitors' booth one time." The conversation dropped off suddenly. Vox had just gotten his first face full of ink from one of the stones. I chuckled and lay back in the grass, enjoying the sun that we had seen so little of in the last months. I fell asleep fully comfortable among my friends.

* * *

It was nearly dusk when Harry woke. Ron was the first to notice as he was waiting impatiently on Neville to take his turn in chess. Remus was still asleep. The girls were watching the chess match, Hermione in Ron's corner and Ginny and Luna helping Neville. Vox and I were sitting under a tree on the other side of the clearing.

Ron spoke, "Awake? We thought we'd let you sleep, you get so little." He blushed; it was something he hadn't planned on saying.

"Thanks, we should probably head back to the castle." Harry got up. I guess he heard something because he turned to peer into the woods. He turned right into an arrow that took him in the shoulder. It didn't go deep but it turned him and put him on his knees. We all moved as one, as though soldiers trained for war. Vox and I went to Harry, the rest presented a semi-circle to the woods. Remus was awake with the sound of Harry's gasp, and stood directly before Harry at the center of the arc. Within moments everyone but Harry had their wands pointed at the trees. Spells flew through the air. I pinned Harry to the ground while Vox pulled the arrow. As soon as the head was free the wound sealed. Harry stood hand briefly touching his shoulder but the motion had no more significance than if he were brushing away dust.

The attackers were still hidden in the trees and the spells had subsided. Harry pointed his wand into the trees; it was stunning to see him keep the semblance of needing a wand even when under attack; I knew he did not need it. Nine more arrows came out of the trees; nine doves flew away over the newly green branches towards Hogwarts. There was more rustling. Spells flew into a shield that I guess Harry held. We resumed firing spells into the invisible enemy. Vox stood behind Harry and me, pulling a few knives from his sleeves. The cycle of spells and arrows continued for several long minutes. Vox fell forward into me, and I only barely managed to catch him. There was another volley of arrows. Harry sent more startled doves flying away. The attackers came out of the trees; nine vampires followed by nine Death Eaters. The magical exchange continued for only a few more seconds and then our attackers disapparated.

I had lowered Vox to the ground and knelt at his head clasping one of his hands. Harry turned and so did Hermione while the others kept watch on the woods.

Vox's fingers were pale blue and he had started to shake. Hermione knelt and a concerned frown appeared on her face; she had developed an instant liking for Vox, a fellow bookworm. She touched his forehead, "We have to get him back to the castle. Harry take him and Draco and we will meet you."

Harry touched Vox and Hermione instead of me, "Draco take the passage it's faster." The three were gone.

* * *

I passed right through the wards; I had the habit of forgetting their existence so for me it was as if they did not exist at all. We appeared in the Room of Requirement. Hermione tried to make Vox comfortable on one of the sofas near the blazing fire, he was shivering, and I started to search the shelves. I had found the room to be wealthy in information, the several bookshelves changed their contents and a swift search of the titles always yielded the information needed. Hermione joined me in the search.

"I read about this somewhere," she said, "It's some sort of curse." Her fingers brushed across the bindings as though she was reading their contents through the leather covers. She paused over an old dusty book that she seemed to recognize. She took it, sat down and thumbed through the pages quickly. "Here it is."

Neville and Draco burst through the door, "the rest are behind us, we took our animals."

Harry nodded. Draco swept over and knelt near Vox's shoulder and took his hand.

Hermione brought the book to me, "it's grim."

I deciphered the handwriting; it was full of flourishes that made the intended letters indistinct if beautiful. The spell on Vox was a family curse common amongst vampires. Sire cast it against the son. The spell sapped the blood-strength from the son giving it to the father; so as the father thrived, the son lived crippled and weak forever, though could not die. There was only one cure, sacrifice by a non-vampire on behalf of the son. I knelt next to Draco who had Vox's hand in his; Draco's hand wavered with the fierceness of the grip. I showed the passage to him.

Draco nodded when he had finished reading; and with sureness I could not imagine he took his knife from his belt and slit his own wrist. He lifted Vox's shoulders and offered him his blood.

It was the second act of complete self sacrifice I had ever seen. My mother had died for me, and now Draco gave his wizard life to Vox. Draco would not be a wizard nor completely a Vampire. Shunned from both worlds, Draco gave what he had always held precious even after befriending me, his status and image.

We retired from the room. A few moments later, Remus, Ginny, Luna and Ron entered the hall. I met them ushering them into another room. A swift explanation of the curse and Remus instantly understood what Draco had done. A simple nod confirmed the others' suspicions.

"We'll see you in the morning," whispered Hermione herding the Gryffindors and Luna out the door.

Remus however stayed for the night.

_Author's Note: I am sorry that this is a day late, or is by my former record of daily updates; I spent all of yesterday driving. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and as always I would love to hear your reviews._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	17. The Rules of Magic

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Seventeen: The Rules of Magic

The next morning I woke to soft laughter. I got up and found Draco and Vox sitting at the table chatting softly. I sat down with them falling into easy conversation. Draco was subtly different. His eyes were darker and yet his skin was paler and his hair was a white that went beyond just being blond. I had trouble pinning down other differences even though I knew they were there. Eventually, the sound of his voice drew my attention; it was closer to Vox's soft timbre rather than the rich-son-drawl. I fell silent and thought for some time; from my rudimentary grasp of wizard law Draco was shut out of any inheritance he would have received. He had his own accounts but they were not the endless Malfoy coiffures he would have been master of. It did not bother him. Neville and Remus joined us. Since I had finished my scrutiny of the vampire pair I studied the other two occupants. Remus looked Vox and Draco up and down, he seemed cautious, concerned and then seeing them whole reassured, that wolfish sense came out and finding the smells the same disappeared. Neville hardly acknowledged any difference in them at all, though that seemed to be the kind of person he was. We went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Draco collected his paper from one of the owls, unfolded it, read the headline and flipped it so I, sitting across the Hufflepuff table from him, could see.

**You-know-Who Seen**

I took up the paper and read the article, my posture fending off several good mornings from peers who had not been alienated by my behavior over the last years.

"Voldemort attacked a muggle village not far from here, the wizarding family got away to warn the ministry." I looked up; the rest of the hall was slowly growing to panic as the news spread. My scar prickled, my stomach turned with my own nervousness and perhaps a little anticipation that was not my own, "He's closer." The rumor had already been whispered along the tables, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would attack Hogsmeade next. I didn't think it would be rumor all that much longer.

"It was a distraction," suggested Neville. "So they could attack us."

"Makes sense," said Vox, "Voldemort and my father are working together, both are upset that I defected. I have a few loyalties still among the younger vampires, I have received some correspondence with them. No, before you protest, the letters were not traced, that is not how we were found. Well, regardless they are irate. My father wanted to attack me; perhaps, he found out that there was a Hogsmeade weekend from an informant at the school, but to attack us when we might be in the town surrounded by others there needed to be a distraction for the ministry. Voldemort supplied it. Why would he let that family go? What was their name?"

"Jaerst."

"I recognize it," said Draco, "a dinner guest of my father's, when I was little perhaps. I don't really remember; if that's true though, that would be part of the plan. What I remember of them they support Voldemort but not outright, might be spies for him, pass along information. I can't tell you for sure."

"Well, that would explain it, seems like a risky plan; what if we didn't go to the village, came back early. I'm not sure unless Voldemort fully engaged the ministry forces, which I don't think he would, the ministry could have still supported Hogsmeade, not to mention Dumbledore would have been out as soon as he heard. Though how fast word would have gotten to him would be the key. Doesn't seem like the best plan."

"Voldemort might have been planning to attack there anyway and they just slipped this in with it."

"Hmmm, doesn't really matter now. They know it failed in the end," Vox looked at Draco, who looked down, shyly.

That night was the only night of rest for me; the nightmares resumed the next day. Draco was tortured and killed thousands of times, so was Neville and Vox. Remus was shot down, spell and silver arrow and not always by Voldemort, a hundred other faceless killers pervaded my dreams.

* * *

It had been nearly a month since the fight outside Hogsmeade, and we had fallen back into routine. I think I was the only one that ate regularly any more. Harry did not, I had developed a theory for that; he ate magic. He seemed most content when there was magic being performed, whether it was his own spell or someone else's. It was most often his own, though. My more sensitive plants shivered when he passed. I had started to feel it too, that heavy feel in the air like before an electric storm. That and there were more realities surrounding him than before. One pulled at familiarity, a black dog that seemed to me like a constant companion to him now, though it had only emerged after the trial. Draco said he had seen it too. Most people seemed aware of it, moving about the dog in the hallways or stepping around him in classrooms. All except Remus, who walked right through the animal on more than one occasion. It was not an image Harry held like the others. I had seen him conjure birds and butterflies, or even once a snake. Those he had controlled like they were puppets; the dog was like a dog to him. One evening I had entered our common room from my bedroom; I found Harry sitting by the fire stroking the dog's head like a he might a free-willed pet. I had far too much to worry about with classes and growing responsibilities under Professor Sprout, who had taken me as an apprentice of sorts, to worry about a dog. Draco already had close ties with his former head-of house and was studying potions, inventing potions actually I think. I say former because I think we all considered ourselves outside those classifications now; I'm not sure the teachers remembered that we had belonged to houses; they had certainly not given us points in favor of any house, nor taken them in a long time.

* * *

It was late April and pouring outside the Charms' classroom window and I was bent over my parchment taking notes. I glanced at Harry, whose second hands were taking notes while he stared at Flitwick, absorbing information. I was always stunned by what Harry remembered sometimes; he never really looked like he was paying heed but throw a spell at him and you were as likely to have the spell reflected as a bucket of freezing water dumped over your head before you had finished the incantation. I stopped taking notes; the lecture was nothing I could not read in a book. There was something not quite right about the look in Harry's eyes. It was unlikely that anyone else noticed as Harry still went around school either invisible, with a different face or under a notice-me-not charm, or rather Harry's equivalent of one. I searched Harry's expression for a clue; I was good at reading faces most of the time, though he was rarely easy to read perfectly. There were bags under Harry's eyes, he had not slept well the night before but then he rarely did as of late and as always he had refused to take a draft of Dreamless Sleep. His mouth was twisted slightly down but as I looked for the focus of the frown Harry shut his eyes and changed into a large black bird. I nearly fell back out of my chair.

"Harry?" I asked quietly, it was luck that Flitwick had not noticed my distraction. I repeated myself.

Harry jarred back to human as quick as if he had not been a raven.

* * *

Draco looked at me out of the corner of his eye the rest of the lesson. I shrugged once, and took the quill from my mirage in an attempt to prevent the vision from coming back.

We left class hurriedly; Draco was practically dragging me by the elbow, followed by Neville who had been unaware of the occurrence. We walked to the end of the corridor and into one of the floor's main halls. Draco pulled me into a niche by a suit of armor and Neville closed the opening with his shoulders, I think he didn't know what had happened but he followed Draco's lead, intending to get the full story out of me.

"What was that about?" Draco hissed, he sounded worried, I didn't know what let him onto the fact that I had had a vision.

"What?" I returned.

"You turned into a raven during charms, that's what I mean by what."

"I didn't know," my voice sounded irritable, I tried to gentle the tone, "I guess the magic did it without me."

I wanted to say 'magic doesn't work without the wielder' but I was well acquainted with Harry's unusual skill. It was so curious; every rule of magic I had ever known was almost directly opposed in Harry. I refocused on the conversation.

Harry reached up and touched my temple, his fingers were cold and I flinched away. An image filtered into my thoughts, not my own, I changed into a raven and flew out into the rain and wind, buffeted this way and that, I let it take me. The land was unchanged below me, soggy green countryside. I suddenly felt the shadow of a predator. The shadow fell, and we tumbled down and down fighting to be the one to fly away.

"That's what I saw."

"It was Voldemort,"

"The shadow? It was, well at least my emotional association of him, he wasn't a part of the dream; He didn't send it. At least I don't think so."

I worried at my lip, the perfect bad habit brewing. "You turned into a raven without your command."

"Yes," his tone was impatient, "I don't know any more about it than you do."

I looked down at the floor as we started moving towards potions, our next class, and an old poem popped into my thoughts, one I had thought I had forgotten, "Do you know the Rules of Magic?"

"No,"

"It's really more a poem, magic at your command when mind and body are whole, wielder's trade, sanity with moderation, madness with greed, life given for breath. Breathers protected and fulfilled. Magic at your command with word, thought, and instrument, magic at your command, take pride, take heed once." I recited; Neville had joined me by the fifth word and finished in cadence.

"Most wizarding children learn it; it's traditionally the first words they hear at birth."

"Interesting, who wrote it?"

"No one is credited with it, pre-founders though. After Merlin, I think." I supplied, "You know I had never heard the take heed part."

"It was always stressed in my family. You're the first person besides me who knows the Breathers part. I was always told the rest was lost. My Gran said it was a beautiful ballad. Of course she heard that from her grandfather who heard it from his all the way down the line, no one seems to remember the rest."

"For once, why heed once," asked Harry.

"It's the next line," Neville said, "I never understood the breathers part. Sanity is most of us, we wield what we can use, use it wisely for our own ends or to help others. I always figured madness was like..."

"Voldemort," Harry finished the thought with him.

"Yes, 'breathers' doesn't make sense to me. Life given for breathe, they are the same thing. poetically right?"

We dropped the conversation as the potions class was called to order.

Snape was in a foul mood, "what is the purpose of adding lavender to a pain-killing potion," Hermione raised her hand, for once Snape called on her.

"It's soothing, even muggles use it."

"No," he snapped, "clearly students have not comprehended the importance of every ingredient in every potion; Potionmasters are efficient if nothing else; why would one add lavender to a pain-killer if copious amounts are also used in sleeping draughts which are always used at the same time? Perhaps our resident ghost can tell us. Potter?" Snape sneered at my seat, he must have been in an unusually bad mood for that.

I let visibility return. I didn't know the answer but gave a smart-Aleck response anyway; the choice was hazardous with the mood Snape was in, "because without lavender the potion will not work."

Snape glared at me. "It is really amazing that Potter was the one to come up with that answer when he is failing this class, while the rest of you think that it's because it's soothing. Correct, each ingredient has a purpose, some are not visible, clear, or sensible but they are there. Lavender was added by an assistant to the wrong potion creating a most useful opiate..."

Snape continued his lecture, telling us to prepare a list of other ingredients that were keys without having any direct impact on the potion other than make it work.

We left the class and headed for the library. "Ten knuts he was summoned to a meeting last night."

"No bet. Questioned and possibly tortured,"

"His cover won't last long if he isn't careful."

"Don't doubt him."

We found Vox in the library with Luna and Ginny helping them search for books. Draco went over and touched his shoulder, whispered to him. I didn't hear and politely didn't eavesdrop. Hermione walked in a few minutes later, "Ginny, Ron just called an emergency Quidditch practice; he's already headed for the pitch."

"Ok, see-ya Luna." Ginny shoved papers back in her bag and left at a run.

"Ron is as bad as Oliver," I muttered to myself since no one present had suffered under his rule.

I conjured a cup of tea letting it float beside me as I walked amongst the shelves.

"Potter," it was Professor McGonagall, "how are you?"

I tensed for a moment, unsure how to take the unwarranted approach. It was McGonagall, I was sure of that but part of me was always ready to fight or flee. "I've been well enough." 'Between school and Voldemort.'

"I wanted to encourage you to practice your Animagus shape, though I doubt you need that encouragement. It will be of more practical use to you than others."

"That's not what you came here to discuss."

"It's not... Dumbledore is out of his mind with worry for you, so am I. You don't sleep in the tower anymore... you don't sleep." Her words had the same effect offering me a biscuit had the previous year; it was so out of character. I honestly didn't know what to tell her; naturally I wanted to mislead her but then after her honest worry I could not. I didn't sleep, not a lot, but I was fine, mostly.

"uh..." I started, "I'm alright, really, talk to Remus if you don't believe me."

"Er... Harry, Albus wants to talk to you, sometime..." she said. The words didn't sound like a message but rather more of the concern she had already shown.

"I rather not." I said and feeling, surprisingly, a little sheepish and shameful, I placed a notice-me-not charm on myself and left that aisle. McGonagall was left standing there in her primly straight hat and tight bun with a thin-line for a mouth and a worried look in her eyes.

_Author's Note: Here is another chapter for you. Please Review._

_Ragards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	18. Attack on Hogsmeade

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Eighteen: Attack on Hogsmeade

May was generally dreary and wet. The Quidditch finals were this weekend and it was Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor. Slytherin had suffered an embarrassing defeat against Ravenclaw three weeks earlier. Most of the school was in high spirits about the game if not the weather conditions. Both teams had been hard at practice, if there weren't red cloaked figures zooming around the pitch there were bound to be blue ones, even during class hours. It was Thursday morning and we were leaving the room of requirement for the great hall and breakfast for one or maybe two if I decided food was interesting. Just as we reached the fourth floor by a secret passage, Harry stumbled. Neville caught him, as he was closest though we all took steps towards him, offering aid.

Harry gasped as if his breath had been knocked out of him, "He's coming to Hogsmeade." Harry had regained some of his self control but the hand that held Neville's was the only thing not shaking. His other hand touched his scar, fingers trembling. Harry shut his eyes and when he opened them it was as if nothing had happened. "I'm going to the astronomy tower, find Dumbledore, and bring him to me." Harry was gone as swiftly as he had spoken, seeming to turn to smoke as he rounded the corner.

"Neville you go down to the great hall. Vox find Remus, and I'll go to Dumbledore's office and try to find him there."

I sprinted back up the secret staircase we had just come down and turned left at the top. I reached the Gargoyle guard just as it was sliding back into place. Dumbledore stood before me with Severus. They were almost opposites this morning, Severus in his usual black and Dumbledore in very pale silver.

"Mr. Malfoy, it is unusual to see you outside of your quartet, to what do we owe this pleasure."

Severus frowned, not an unusual expression, but I could tell his gaze was leveled at me, making me almost want to quiver, is this how the rest of his students feel all the time? He spoke then, "he knows, doesn't he; Potter does, I mean?"

I stuttered, "w what? Harry says the Dark Lord is coming to Hogsmeade."

"Then your allegiance is not betrayed yet Severus. Now we have another source. Go do as you must. Where is Harry?"

"Atop the astronomy tower," I said, I felt uncomfortable revealing so much information to the headmaster, but Harry had sent for him.

Dumbledore took off at a stride I could not imagine for such an old man.

I followed along at Dumbledore's heels, the first few corridors I had pretended not to run but it was soon obvious that that was not an option; I nearly sprinted trying to keep up. Through a lucky choice of path we met up with Remus and Vox, both trotting up the staircase that we had just joined. One floor up, Remus shouted down a corridor, "Neville." Moments later he was tagging at the end of our line, red-faced and panting. Dumbledore did not slow, though I could not imagine why the old wizard felt the need to run. I would have thought a brisk walk sufficient. Eventually we all spilled out into the chilly air at the top of the tower. To the east was a large raven. It hopped on the edge and then flickered into Harry, then back. It changed several times, impatience and magical energy feeding off each other.

"Harry," said Dumbledore gently. Harry whipped around, wand pointed, feet readjusting to an old fashioned dueling stance. He relaxed as soon as he saw who it was.

"Headmaster, I'm sure you know the urgency."

"I do, I was just meeting with Severus when Draco found us."

"He is coming to Hogsmeade, not Hogwarts, he knows how big his forces are, and he knows they are not enough to take the school.

"Harry, please don't go out there today, promise me."

"Who will face him? Who will die?"

"Please, Harry, you know what the prophecy says. I don't think today is the day to try to fulfill it."

Harry made no indication of having heard.

"We all do as we must." In the tone there was dismissal and surprisingly Dumbledore took it but he did motion Remus after him. The two left the tower.

Harry did not speak to us so we stood frozen getting wetter and wetter in the damp air. Every moment I felt as if the world was growing colder. I didn't know how long we stood there, but then Harry ran in the direction of the railing. Neville was after him in a flash, cloak flapping. I realized I was moving just as quickly and Vox was right behind me. Ahead of us Harry transformed; raven black wings flapped, and Neville lunged. I grabbed onto his shoulders and Vox circled his arms around my waist. I shut my eyes as we cleared the railing. We should have been falling. I opened an eye and looked up. Neville had Harry by the talons; any other time I would have been considering the comedy of three young men hanging from the talons of a bird that was no larger than my eagle owl. Harry gave an indignant birdy screech. Serves him right trying to go off without us, I thought savagely, though the feeling was fleeting. Then with another lazy flap of his wings we all hit the ground. We were in Hogsmeade. Harry was standing ankle deep in snow and looking at us. There was no frown on his face. "What are you waiting for?" he asked.

_Author's Note: A little short yes but it make's tomorrow's worth the wait._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	19. The Fox's Revenge

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Nineteen: The Fox's Revenge

Wizards fought in the dirty-colored fog that had collected in the streets of Hogsmeade. I had followed closely on Harry's heels, much as the rest of our quartet had, until we had lost him. He had been trotting purposefully in front of us, false wand gripped in his hand, but then he was gone. I thought I had been watching him the whole time but I could not remember how he had left our company. We were the only students on the streets; the rest of the student population was in lock down, safe, or not so safe depending on the outcome of this interaction of the so grandly named forces of Light and Dark, Good and Evil. At least I thought the students were, I was sure Dumbledore had forbade any students joining the fight, he had even tried to keep Harry on the castle grounds. Harry had not stayed and now because of him, we were here too. I don't know why he didn't just apparate if he hadn't wanted us to go with him but maybe he had and had given us just the opportunity.

Vox was stalking close to my shoulder but Neville had disappeared about the same time Harry had. So far, we had avoided any direct altercation with our foes, merely dropping a few with stunners when, with the confusion, we could go relatively unnoticed. It did not last long. With the fog boiling around corners we nearly collided with my father, Lucius, I corrected, refusing him kinship and my uncle by marriage, Rodulphous Lestrange. It took seconds for either pair of us to really recognize the other. Lucius, surely, had not ever expected to see his 'cowardly' son on a battlefield and I had hoped dearly that I would have the luck not to run into the man. We were only momentarily stunned, and we both spoke incantations softly, lights zooming towards the other with more malice than I would have conjured for the Dark Lord himself, and he for the boy who lived. I dodged with the speed and grace I had gained from Vox. Lucius cast faster pulling a shield around him and then attacking again. Lestrange had recovered from his shock and fired as well. I created a shield bouncing both spells into the surrounding space to hit walls and be absorbed. Vox had out his knives and was on the balls of his feet waiting for striking distance. Neither man made to get any closer. A few more exchanges of spells, and Vox flipped one of the knives in his hand and threw it. It hit Lestrange in the wandhand, and splintered the wand. Useless, Lestrange let the wand fall and cradled his injured hand to his chest, retreating down an alleyway. Then the fog shifted and we were separated from Lucius.

* * *

Harry was gone, faded in the shadows and fog. I followed in the direction I thought he had gone and lost Draco and Vox somewhere behind me. Many wizards crossed my path. Duelers on both sides traded spells, explosions went off under foot, and lights dazzled blinding those that had looked in the wrong direction. At this time I guessed that the Death Eaters outnumbered the ministry and order fighters at least three to one, and those extra masks were looking for an easier target. I had been aimed at several times but with the fog drifting about and only weak light from the cloud-shrouded sun and the fires starting to flicker in the windows of Hogsmeade residences, I was too hard a target while I was moving. I'd be a harder target if I was smaller, and faster. I saw a rat scurry around a corner. An animal. Perhaps that was how Harry had disappeared without us seeing. I fixed on my idea of the fox. The silver hair would be too reflective in this light. Darker then, I imagined a smoky gray, and shrunk onto all fours. The ground rocketed up across the street and I scampered away before I could stop myself. My nose twitched, far more sensitive as a fox than my own human nose. I felt a fearful tenseness that I had not felt when I was human, and involuntarily sank lower in my improvised hiding spot. Another spell exploded in front of a door, charring the wood. I wanted to move again, I almost did; my body trying to slink as close to the ground as it could and move away from the growing clatter of fighting and the hiss of flames. I reined in that feeling, fighting it hard. This had never happened before. I had been a fox-shape, four paws, bushy tail and dark pointed ears; but this was different, this was something closer than that. All the creeping instincts of a small predator edged around my thoughts. I was the fox. My bones seemed to snap to the form the same way they readjusted to human height and shape. Another explosion sounded, and this time I let the instinct move me out of the shadows. A spell hurtled past me and struck above where I had been, raining down fiery ash. I ran a fair distance down the street, even the balance of my feet feeling truer than it had been before. I darted around a corner and froze. Several groups of fighters dueled along the main street of Hogsmeade. I could see all the way down to the Three Broomsticks and the booth standing just outside. The fog had cleared from this area most likely by a spell. The nearest set of duelers was Tonks, who I barely knew, another auror and Bellatrix Lestrange. There were two more bodies by her feet likely stunned or dead in this fight; but Bellatrix stepped around them, almost ignorant of their misfortune. She had tortured my parents into insanity and I hated her more than anything else. All I cared about was that hatred. I ran along the base of the building until I was a little distance past her and turned so I could come at her from behind to claim the little vengeance I could after so many years. So far I had gone unacknowledged by either party; though I could not be sure that I was not seen. A few more lengthened steps and I leapt barking and snapped my jaws around her wrist. Tonks stopped her firing, shock perhaps halting her assault. Her partner stopped as well. Bellatrix thrashed her free hand at me; wand, for the moment forgotten. I let go, bounced off the ground and bit at her collar. She got a glancing blow in and I jumped back to the ground rushing past her feet for another attack. I had forgotten magic as well. Bellatrix regained her wand and aimed at me, her first spells missing. I saw Tonks move closer to get in better range. I jumped again aimed for Bellatrix's throat; she deserved worse than death but death was all I could give her. Her third spell hit me as my teeth ripped at her neck and we both tumbled down. With coppery blood on my tongue I passed out.

* * *

I shielded against whatever curse Lestrange had thrown at me when I saw a small dark shape whiz past us, hurtling along the base of the buildings. It turned when it had passed Lestrange and came leaping back. My casting slowed and stopped. The shape latched onto her wrist and she gave out a shriek. She dropped her wand, but I was too shocked at the shadow to think of summoning it. The shadow had a dog like shape and for its size and bushy tail I guessed a fox. It released the bloody wrist turned taking one stride and leaped back at the woman. I started to move closer afraid to cast a spell at this distance, afraid to hit our unexpected help. The fox dropped to the ground again. Lestrange scooped up her wand and fired several times as the creature ran about her feet. The fox leapt one last time; its jaws caught the aimed for place, beneath her jaw. Her last spell hit the animal's side and both toppled to the ground. I hurried my step, my partner right behind me. I fell to my knees at the fox's head while Shacklebolt secured Lestrange. I didn't think she had long to live. The fox's heart was still beating strongly, but I had not heard the incantation nor seen but a flash of light, without recognizing a color.

"She's dead," said Shacklebolt's voice, a gruff whisper. "Bled right out, nothing we could do. But why would a fox enter such a fight?"

"I don't know, he's still alive though, whatever she cast on him."

"Strangest thing I've ever seen."

"Only human control would put a normal animal into such a situation. But I don't detect any such spells on him."

We were both silent. I was unwilling to leave him to whatever danger might find him here and Shacklebolt wasn't supposed to leave my side. We thought for a while; I realized I was jealous of the fox. He had revenged my cousin's death not knowing I had wanted to deal that blow.

Shacklebolt was muttering to himself, "human control, not a spell, human control, not a spell,"

"Could he be an Animagus?" I asked, thoughts of my cousin bringing that idea sooner than it would have come otherwise.

"Yes," he mused, "Do you know the revealing spell?"

I nodded, leveling my wand at the fox. At his count we cast the spell together. The Animagus transformation was a little stronger than ordinary transfiguration and generally took two people to undo it. The fox was slow to show any signs of shifting to human form and even slower to do so once he had. At our feet lay a young man, in school or maybe freshly out. He had dark brown hair and pale skin, but I did not know his face.

"The Longbottom boy?" My partner sounded shocked. I knew of the Longbottoms but I was both too young to know the parents, though I had read about them during my school years, and too old to know their son.

"He can't be an Animagus, can he?"

"He was a fox just mere moments ago."

"Well, we have to get him out of here now that we know who he is."

* * *

Vox collected his knife out of the snow. We slipped onward cautiously; I did not want to run into Lucius again.

"Perhaps we should return to the main street," Vox suggested.

"There's bound to be fighting there," I replied, uneasy with the idea, naturally I would have preferred to be back at the castle, my life preserved, though admittedly I had been just as quick to chase after Harry.

"More aid as well though," he pointed out.

"Yes perhaps, not that we will really be able to tell in this fog."

"Do you think it is Harry's fog?"

"I don't doubt it. Makes it harder for everyone though doesn't it."

"Only if you move with haste…"

I realized I was nearly running and slowed. At that rate I would trip at the hem of Voldemort's robes before I could stop myself.

It was close to five minutes before we figured out where we were, having wandered into the residential area of Hogsmeade. It was a few more before we cautiously stepped onto the main cobbled road. The fog was cleared from this area, billowing in the alleys but staying off the street. Numerous groups cast spells back and forth. Fighting was something I had done as a child, something children did. Adults, mature beings, at least, I thought should use politics, special modes of persuasion, to achieve their ends. My father had clearly lost that part of the family dignity. Muggles used force. Wizards were better than muggles, and should not fall to that level. But here were some of the most talented witches and wizards of the age, throwing the nastiest hexes they could remember at each other. Of course, we had little choice now that we were among wizards that wanted us dead.

There was a group not far before us that was doing just that. We were behind the Death Eaters' backs, and unnoticed by the aurors. I lazily cast a stunner at one of the masked wizards and he stiffened slightly and fell over. I hit the other with something a little more unpleasant, and withdrew into one of the alleyways. I pulled Vox with me.

"Come on, we'll circle down a little farther. No idea where Harry is; could be anywhere."

We stalked behind the stores just as wary as we had been in the open. As we passed, we peered down the alleyways to see miniature meteors of magic whizzing past. Occasionally we saw people; and sometimes I felled them with a curse, if there weren't too many other masks around that would notice a spell flying from an unusual direction. Some distance down and around the bend in the main road there was a pair of aurors standing above a few sprawled figures. We moved closer to the street.

"He was a fox just moments ago," said the man. His voice was faint with the distance.

"Did he just say fox?" I asked; Vox had better ears than I did. It wasn't Neville surely.

"Yes, I believe so. Let's go closer." We crept nearer, until we were just obscured by shadows.

The woman auror spoke, "We need to get him out of here…"

I leaned out of the alleyway, the figure they stood over looked like it could be Neville. I went closer. The snow crunched. Both aurors had their wands aimed at me before the grimace left my face. Vox had bumped into me and was peering past my ear, though the rest of him was mostly shielded.

"Easy, we're friends in this." I had no delusions that the rest of the Light side would accept me as readily as Harry, I mean half of them were condemning Harry, why would they offer anything more to a Death Eater's son.

The woman lowered her wand but the man did not. I stepped closer to them.

"Careful Malfoy," she growled.

"I'm Malfoy no longer," I spat and knelt at Neville's head. I checked his pulse and breathing both strong for being unconscious.

"What hit him?"

"Lestrange got him at point blank, I didn't even see a color develop," was supplied by the woman, I believe her name was Tonks, a cousin of mine, though with a muggleborn father.

"Dangerous to wake him then," I muttered. I knew some of the dark spells would knock you out, but then after waking, you might suffer excruciating pain, or any of a number of symptoms ranging from unpleasant to deadly. I didn't doubt that it was one of these if Lestrange cast the spell. I touched my nose in apology, a habit that, if my father had seen it, would have earned me a broken wrist. "Enervate," I said. Neville stirred. I still had my fingers on his wrist, counting his pulse. It sped to a heart-bursting pace. "Damn it," I fumbled in my robe for the vials I kept in small pockets stitched to the inside. Each one held a single dose. I had made the bottles unbreakable, and through a wicked bit of magic made the contents poison if anyone but me unscrewed the lids. I found the correct potion and administered the dose to Neville. His pulse calmed, and he became more lucid. Snape was right as usual, there was more power in potions than wizards believed.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Just fine," he said. I stood up. Vox was a few steps back staring pointedly at the auror's wand which had not been lowered. I hauled Neville to his feet; and found that he was indeed just fine.

"We'll be moving on then." We turned away from them, and trudged further down the street.

_Author's Note: So there's the first half of the fight and Neville has discovered his true Animagus form as well as gotten some revenge._

_Hope you enjoyed it, as always,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	20. Defeated

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty: Defeated

I had taken wing from atop the astronomy tower hoping I would not have to bring the others with me. I didn't want them to come; I never wanted my friends to come. Today, though when Neville, Draco, and Vox leapt wingless off the tower, I knew they would follow even if I let them fall. I apparated into the residential area; they hung on for side-along apparation or teleportation as it might more rightfully be classified. They landed in an ungraceful heap. Weren't we all too young to be here? I hoped that the skirmish would end quickly enough that they would not see it. I walked just ahead of them for a short distance before I disappeared from their presence and appeared on the roof of the Three Broomsticks.

There is something about magic that seems to blind wizards to the idea of strategic positioning. Perhaps it is because magic can equalize any playing field; make defenses, destroy hiding places, level high ground into lower ground. But I stood unprotected on the roof in full sight, black against the remnant snow, not attacked. Death Eaters had started to apparate into the area. The Ministry had been informed, and the aurors and the order were packed into the alleys waiting. I pulled dense fog into the area, covering them and leaving the street open. But they did not hold to the alleys; when there was an equal force of masks in the street, they broke cover and attacked in the open. I turned into a raven and hopped along the eaves of the building, watching, waiting, assisting in small ways. Both forces seemed small, their strengths matched so that neither side gained advantage. Groups played back and forth, each side incapacitating their opponents and when the opportunity came helping their friends back into the fray. As many Death Eaters were felled and resurrected as aurors. I flapped lazily up to the peak of the roof; there at the bend in the street I could see most of the fighting. It seemed the number of masks on the street swelled.

I vanished the Death Eaters shoes. That caused a satisfying amount of distraction, and a significant portion of their increasing number fell.

My scar twinged, and then throbbed. Voldemort had arrived though I could not see him yet. I searched for Dumbledore, curious. I didn't wonder that Voldemort would try to attack me, but did he know I was close or was that a singular gift I had? Dumbledore was dueling below me against a fistful of Death Eaters. The pain increased. From down the lower street Voldemort glided towards us, duelers moving out of his way. He did not ignore them, but he spent no more energy than perhaps to send a single killing curse at the auror that got in his way. Often he did not watch to see if it hit its target, or if it missed. Dumbledore dispatched the last of the Death Eaters that had crossed wands with him.

"Ah, Tom," he sighed, he did not say more, as though he had already said it a long time ago.

"You cannot win, Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed out. Both figures seemed short from my vantage point though I knew both would tower over me if I were to stand beside them.

"Can you, Tom?"

"Is the boy locked in your tower? Ah, but then he is not yours anymore, is he?"

Dumbledore scripted out runes before him. I cocked my head and watched; the use of runes was one of the more curious methods of casting, though for me it was nearly useless, it was, however, interesting to see its strength.

Fire shot out of Voldemort's wand testing the barrier. It seemed to meet solid stone.

"No person is mine; you have always forgotten the power of choice."

"No one can escape their fate, not even you Dumbledore."

"Can you, Tom?" it seemed a strange echo of his first query. "If Harry chooses to meet you it will be his choice. I can no longer lock him away, his gifts stretch beyond mine, beyond yours…" His voice was fading off into a musing tone and if I could not see the scene but only hear the words I would think he was sitting in his office sucking on a lemon drop. It was difficult to tell if Voldemort heard the last two words but he struck again at the barrier.

It held again. Dumbledore seemed to be incased in glass that rippled with the magic, warped it around until it was no more dangerous than the light bent by a prism. Secured in his rune armor Dumbledore struck out with his own attack. Their duel was like the one in the ministry atrium almost a year ago. It was like when Draco and I dueled, that same flexibility though without the child-like fun. They didn't drench each other with water (though that would have been deadly enough in the cold) or turn projectiles into butterflies. They played with fire, and steel. Dumbledore drew down lightning and Voldemort parried with conjured rods that crossed above his head like some fierce castle of his own (one to oppose the one of light and glass that surrounded Dumbledore.) Both defenses weakened. Wind whipped around like the tails on a lash, pulling the broken glass from the townhouse windows with it. It scrapped across the two dueling and their audience. The other fighters in the street had slowed, distracted by their masters' duel; startled perhaps or just in jealous awe of the power that flowed over and around the two, touching everyone on the street with a static zap that made the skin crawl; I only watched patiently.

I paused in entering the fight, too bitter still, at them (for believing a prophecy) and me (for still feeling obligated to fight), but then I wanted to fight, needed to. Voldemort struck again and the last vestiges of defense fell around Dumbledore. His runes already weakened and left too long without repair finally drifted apart. It buffered against the attack but some of Voldemort's spell passed; it knocked Dumbledore to his knees and snatched his wand out of reach. Most wizards were helpless without their wands; Dumbledore was not one of these, little metallic birds dove towards Voldemort reaching for bare flesh. It was enough time for Dumbledore to find his wand. Voldemort vanished the conjuring and stepped close enough to Dumbledore to press his wand against Dumbledore's collar.

"Your death seals my victory."

I flew down towards his face pointed beak threatening and wings flapping, driving him away from the headmaster, I rose above him and circled around to in front of Dumbledore and changed back to human.

"Ah Harry, a raven, that is a charming Animagus form. Very Wizardly."

"Wizardly or not, Charming or not, that is not the reason we are standing here."

"No," his voice was a cold breath, "it is because of a prophecy neither of us can escape. But I know the end, Harry Potter, even if you will not acknowledge it." He stepped closer to me and I let him; preparing some quick imagining to rescue me. It seemed as if all the others had been frozen while the world was dropped away leaving only the two of us and whatever horrors we could conjure.

"I am standing here because you killed my parents long before I had even a chance to know them."

"Then you are standing here because of prophecy." He hissed, almost insistent that it be true.

I was not going to play word games; I turned over my shoulder and disappeared.

"My, my, my, you have learned a few tricks. But that one isn't clever enough to save you. Snakes still know where you are, and so do I."

Body heat, of course, I turned into a snake, my heat disappearing into the snow.

"We can still hear you," He cast a spell that in its trajectory disappeared; but then reappeared and hit my side. It threw me back into a visible human form.  
'You are stronger than this, you know how to fight him, and you can defeat him.'

He cast another spell, 'imperio.' Voices started crawling around my head. 'You don't have to fight.' 'This battle can't be won by you.'

'But I'm not the only one fighting.' I struggled, the voices weren't telling me to do anything. They weren't saying to bow at Voldemort's feet, they weren't telling me to lie down and die.

"But you are, all your friends are dead in this fight, Lucius killed his son, Vox bled to death not far from this very spot, a stake through his chest, vampires are rather cruel to traitors, and Neville, ah courageous foolish Neville fought with Bellatrix but she was stronger than all the members of that family. Remus' wolf brothers found him. Silver is such a terrible poison."

'No, they aren't dead.'

'They are, Harry Potter.' Pictures of the tragedies came before my eyes. Draco lifeless, murdered by the killing curse, Vox with three arrows piercing his chest one as thick as a stake, and a gash laying open his throat, Neville also lifeless, blood soaking into his robes, glistening in the odd reflecting light. And Remus collapsed in the snow, limbs limp and wrong, a single knife between his shoulder blades. Then Sirius was falling through the veil; all of them were dead.

The last one was wrong I knew it was. Sirius was alive; I knew that, so the others could be imaginings as easily as I knew that one was false. I pictured all of them arrayed behind me wands pointed at Voldemort. I threw that image back at Voldemort as hard as I could.

* * *

Neville, Vox and I walked down the road. Our confidence doubled; while we were still missing Harry, it seemed like we could best all but the Dark Lord himself. We engaged a group of Death Eaters but defeated them easily. Few people pursued the learning of new magic once school was finished so most of the ranks of Death Eaters knew no more complicated magic than we did. They knew more varieties of hexes and curses certainly, and darker ones at that, but that amounted to little more than throwing different colored rocks at us. Lucius had taught me many of the same curses before I even entered school, not that I was master of them at that point. So while we were matched, time and time again, we fared well; moving up the street quickly until we came close to the bend in the road.

We had engaged part of a group of Death Eaters that had been fighting with a pair of aurors, colleagues of Tonks and the man, no doubt. Vox was throwing knives, Neville was shielding and I was attacking, using the same curses thrown our way and worse. In the middle of the fight the Death Eaters all looked down at their feet; I took the moment of distraction to stun a few of them. One fell, I missed the other, or perhaps his shield took the hit. Vox nailed one with a knife. He was dead before he hit the ground. I summoned the weapon back.

"Their shoes are gone," said Neville, a little shocked. I immediately turned that against the few remaining foes. I cast a heating charm at the stones below them, the snow that was little more than slush after the churning of hundreds of feet hissed into steam. Soon they were trying to escape the hot ground. I stunned the rest of them. We looked around from our fight. Dumbledore was below the pointed roof of the Three Broomsticks. A large pitch-black raven hopped along the eaves watching; head twisted to stare down the street.

"It was Harry. See him? He's on the roof." The other two nodded. I refocused on whatever he saw down the street. A tall dark robed figure glided up the cobbled path. Dumbledore finished with the masks around him and turned towards his former student.

"Ah, Tom," Dumbledore sighed.

"You cannot win, Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed out.

"Can you, Tom?"

"Is the boy locked in your tower? Ah, but then he is not yours anymore?"

Dumbledore started sketching out runes. I recognized the symbols for barrier and protection. Voldemort attacked the shield.

When the brush of magic had faded away, Dumbledore said, "No person is mine; you have always forgotten the power of choice."

"No one can escape their fate, not even you Dumbledore."

"Can you, Tom? If Harry chooses to meet you it will be his choice. I can no longer lock him away, his gifts stretch beyond mine, beyond yours."

Voldemort attacked again and they fought for what seemed like hours. I felt numb, even as I watched the two, powerful and knowledgeable as they were, I could only see it as an echo of what I had seen Harry do. They both flailed at each other never really making a true attack on the other. Dumbledore cast lightening down but Voldemort funneled away the electricity. I watched the raven pacing up and down the edge of the shingles through most of the fight. Eventually the runes failed under a burst of magic. Dumbledore fell to his knees and lost his wand. Dark silver birds flew at Voldemort, a distraction that provided enough time for Dumbledore to regain his wand. It did not let him escape Voldemort's power. The Dark Lord closed the distance and had his wand pressed against the headmaster's throat, before he could bring the wand to his defense.  
"Your death seals my victory."

Then the raven moved. It launched itself towards Voldemort, violently, pushing him back. Harry turned in a loop and returned to the ground and human form.

"Ah Harry, a raven, that is a charming Animagus form. Very Wizardly."

"Wizardly or not, Charming or not, that is not the reason we are standing here." His voice sounded bitter to me.

"No," Voldemort said, "it is because of a prophecy neither of us can escape. But I know the end Harry Potter even if you will not acknowledge it." He stepped closer to Harry, but Harry did not seem threatened by it.

"I am standing here because you killed my parents long before I had even a chance to know them." The bitterness was pronounced in that statement but I think that maybe the herons were the only ones to hear it.

"Then you are standing here because of prophecy."

Harry disappeared.

"My, my, my, you have learned a few tricks. But that one isn't clever enough to save you. Snakes still know where you are, and so do I." The voice was mocking, hissing.

"We can still hear you,"

Voldemort cast a spell, it found Harry, and turned him visible again. "Imperio," Voldemort hissed. I thought about fourth year and how Harry was the only one able to throw off the spell. I wished him the strength to fight it. Harry looked around eyes glazed, horror resting there. What was he being shown? Had Voldemort mastered that part of the spell at last? Imperio was an odd curse, with a combination of legilimens, Voldemort could use it to fabricate what a person understood as true. With that, I doubted anyone could escape its trap. Harry turned back to face Voldemort, drawing up his height, pride returned to him. Some force in my mind shoved me into movement, it was alien to me, asking a thing I would not have dared do willingly; I drew out my wand and pointed it at Voldemort, Neville did the same, and Vox pulled an arm back ready to throw a knife. Remus shouldered through the crowd and stood to my left, wand also aimed at the Dark Lord. Across the circle a man with the Black Family features raised a wand, I recognized him. Voldemort saw us all, and I dared to think I saw fear in his eyes.

* * *

I pushed the image of my friends and family back at him, adding my parents, and Cedric Diggory, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, everyone I could think of that had suffered under Voldemort's reign. Air twisted me around to look at them. They seemed faded and pale, like ghosts. Their feet started to pull away with the wind that rose up behind us. They aren't dead. I know they aren't. They can't be. I pushed the image again; trying to bring all my pride and arrogance forward.

They disappeared.

* * *

Voldemort closed the gap between them and turned Harry by the shoulder to look in our direction. His face was bright and prideful but then it saddened, fear flitted back and forth. Fear replaced by confidence replaced by fear again. What was he seeing? Dumbledore was frozen, watching, deep sadness creasing his face. He was still kneeling in the snow, wand in his slack hand. Why wasn't he doing anything? Harry fell to his knees, all the extra images dropping away. I had not seen him without those extra images surrounding him since we had become friends, in the beginning I had not realized what they were but they had been there. Nothing broke the truth of them, not sleep, not distraction, what possibly could have done it?

He couldn't have given up?

"No." Had I spoken out loud? Part of me wanted to stay in the stance Harry had put me in, I was sure it was Harry that had forced my wand-arm to point at Voldemort, but I had to do something. I saw no one else move, when I glanced around the crowd, even Dumbledore waited. Then I saw the man with the Black family features, Sirius Black, he became more distinct, not less so, as if he had been released from the vestiges of Harry's control. He fell forward into a slinking stride, and that freed me as well. Voldemort looked down at Harry, still only kneeling, and sneered.

"What hope have you ever had? You have lost everything, Harry Potter." Voldemort bent over Harry to whisper in his ear, something none of us could hear. Voldemort's wand was not aimed at Harry; he knew Harry was no longer a threat to him. Voldemort had broken him, and Voldemort recognized that that emotional defeat was far more brutal than mortality in the eyes of his enemies. That seeing the Boy-Who-Lived defeated, kneeling at his feet, would win him the wizarding world.

Black and I moved forward, he faster than I. He laid one finger on Harry and disappeared.

_Author's Note: So there you have it. Please review._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	21. Seeing is Believing

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-One: Seeing is Believing

I had not seen such fury on the Dark Lord's face before. I turned and fled snatching at my friends to follow as swiftly as they could. I held onto Vox after turning Neville and shoving him onward. I saw him, in turn, pull at Remus. I did not see into the turmoil at the center of the mass. We reached the other side of the ring of fighters, hesitating. We had no time to discuss an apparation point, and I had reason to believe that the ministry would have immediately set up anti-apparation wards now that the fight was ended. It would be their goal to capture as many of the death eaters as possible. The boundary was likely some distance into the forest. I could run much faster as an animal but neither Vox nor Remus could change and they would be left behind. Neville was already shifting, perhaps the fox demanding to flee. Harry had changed into a horse to carry Vox the night he had rescued him, could I do the same with no practice? I imagined being a horse, I hoped desperately for the change. My bones snapped towards a new form. When I opened my eyes the world was different, viewed through foreign eyes. My field of vision was almost a circle with disturbing blind spots. And it felt right the way being a bird never had. I dropped my equine shoulder and insisted that the two mount, then we galloped away. We did not escape unhindered, Death Eaters appeared around us trying to pull us down, claim any one of us as their prisoner. Voldemort, it seemed, had issued orders swiftly enough. I galloped past them, hooves and teeth threatening those who did not move fast enough. Remus defended with magic from my back.

I took us out of Hogmeade and into the surrounding forest. We lost our attackers. I slowed, halted and knelt for them to dismount. As soon as they did I transformed back and sat down. The dark gray fox trotted up to us and turned back into Neville.

"Who took Harry," Remus demanded.

I looked at him stunned; surely he had seen as clearly as I had. "It was Sirius Black," I said smoothly.

"It can't have been, Sirius is dead, I saw it happen," bitterness, and deeply buried sadness edged his voice. I was surprised there weren't tears rolling down his cheeks; with that tone there should have been.

"It was him, I swear to you," said Neville earnestly.

"We cannot stay here long," said Vox.

"No, where can we go, the castle might be compromised, though I doubt she will let the Dark Lord cross her threshold anymore. Remus, none of us have secure homes, the only place we have left is your cottage."

Remus was looking at the ground. He nodded consent. I took Vox's hand for side-along apparation. We popped out of existence. The world swirled, and resolidified. We stood in a quiet clearing before the rough old door of a small cottage. I did not know the precise location but I could guess farther north than Hogwarts; snow was still caught in the shadows and some of the buds were covered in ice. I focused on them, fearful of what might have happened in Harry's head. More people had gone mad than died in this war. Those that did go mad often wandered into the Muggle world forgetting magic and everything they had known. There was monkshood, foxglove, and goat's rue making a patchwork of disarray in the front garden. Harry was too strong to go mad, too arrogant to be fooled by any of the tricks Voldemort knew. The goat's rue was blooming far too early, indicating an unprecedented potency.

I realized what I was doing and shook myself; I didn't even know if Harry was in this house, Sirius could have taken him anywhere. Remus and Neville popped into existence behind me. I was too tired to be jumpy. Remus brushed past me and opened the door.

* * *

I followed last into the house, behind Remus, Draco, and Vox. Harry was propped on the sofa, staring into the fire. There was disgust in the curl of his lips but only sorrow in his eyes. Remus walked over to him, knelt and tried to capture his attention. Harry did not see him. I felt cold; my father was vacant like that when I visited him in St. Mungo's. My mother was not much better, warmer, like if she just fought a little harder she could free herself. I wasn't sure that wasn't worse. Draco tried, and then Vox did, trying to make him focus, to remember us, but the focus of his gaze was somewhat beyond us.

I looked at Sirius instead. I had seen him fall through the veil, but then everything was too confused. Harry had been caught by Remus, who had the edging of tears in his eyes. They struggled, did Harry break free? Did Remus let go? I saw Harry on the dais; reaching through, past the veil into whatever space lay beyond it. He hadn't done that, but the image was stuck in my memory like he had. Sirius had not noticed me watching him; he was far too busy watching Harry. Remus walked stiffly out of the room, and short minutes later I heard the whistle of a teapot. We were still frozen in our places when Remus returned to the room with a tray. I noticed the tray was floating, magic surer than shaky hands. We took cups from him, those of us that drank tea at least. I took sugar and cream for mine, but Draco waved away both. Vox was standing next to him, he bit his finger and stirred Draco's cup with it. Remus sat next to Harry and held out a cup, Harry didn't move. Remus set the cup on the table. Sirius still had not moved but his eyes slipped over to the cup and back every few seconds. Then he shifted forward.

* * *

I had taken Harry to the one place I knew no one else knew about. Remus' cottage was small, not really meant to be lived in like the house we had shared after graduating. It was the full moon house, there was more land around it than even the fastest werewolf could cover in one night, so Remus was safe and so was everyone else. I carried Harry into the den, and sat him on the couch. He was not stiff, but more distracted, almost like his body was asleep and he was dreaming. I twirled my wand in the direction of the fireplace and flames sprouted out of the blackened wood. I leaned against the mantel and watched. He showed all the signs of recovery from whatever magic Voldemort had cast. I had no way of truly knowing, so I waited. It was not long before Remus and Harry's triad came in. Remus had always been the one able to find me, and as if by an extra sense, know whether I had been causing trouble. I think that was the reason Dumbledore had made him prefect, not because Remus was the best in the house for the job.

Remus went straight to Harry, checked him in a motherly way, but when Harry did not respond to him, he walked stiffly into the other room. I knew it was best not to follow him, he was going in there to recompose himself, and more than anything he hated people seeing him emotional. I watched Malfoy and the vampire check on Harry as well. Neville did not move, I had known his parents and I think I understood why he didn't move towards Harry.

None of us moved until Remus came back with a tray of tea. Neville took one with cream and sugar, and Draco took a cup, black until Vox added some of his blood. Draco either didn't notice or didn't care. There was a blood bond between them, I guessed.

The last thing I remembered was falling through a stone doorway before this evening. But there were other memories in there too, as if I had lived the time between the two events but had forgotten almost everything. I did not worry about it. Magic was strange enough to explain anything, in my opinion. Remus sat down next to Harry and offered him some tea. Harry didn't budge, didn't even look at him. That was strange; it was as if Harry didn't even see him. Remus set the cup down on the table. My eyes passed back and forth between the cup and Harry. Remus brushed hair away from Harry's ear, and whispered his name. Harry didn't react.

I pushed off the mantle and flopped down on the couch at the other end. I summoned the two cups to me and held one out to Harry. He broke his stare, to look at me and then at the proffered cup. He took it and sipped; behind him I could see that Remus was staring. I didn't really understand that, why I was the only one that Harry reacted to, or even seemed to see.

* * *

Sirius Black moved away from the mantle and collapsed onto the sofa next to Harry. Remus hadn't acknowledged him once the entire time as if, the same way Harry could not see us, Remus could not see Sirius. I remembered the dog that had so often been nearby over the last few months; I had heard rumors about the convict being an Animagus, but never from sources reliable enough to be believed. Remus had not seen that dog either, his grief, and slightly too logical nature blinding him. Sirius summoned two of the extra cups to him and held one out for Harry. Harry broke his stare from the fireplace and looked at Sirius, and then at the cup. He took the cup and sipped from it; but he didn't speak.

"What is wrong with him?" asked Vox, who was idly stirring my cup with a bloody finger.

"Voldemort is a master of lies," I said, "He can make you believe anything, he shows the images to your mind and you can't do anything except believe him, after all, you saw it happen, it must be true."

"Harry does the same thing though, doesn't he?" asked Vox softly.

I thought about it, 'was it really the same thing?' I didn't really believe it was. "No," I said very slowly, "He doesn't make you think that something is true; he makes it true."

We were silent while we thought about that; I had several more theories that might fit alongside that assertion but I didn't voice them.

* * *

I left the room, desperate not to be seen upset. At this point, I didn't know why it bothered me as much as it did. I had seen all my friends cry, except for that rat, but I couldn't stand to be upset. I had been with Sirius when we had heard about Lily and James; he had nearly fallen to bits, until he remembered that Harry still had a chance. That was the last time I had seen him as a free man, the sharpness that was collecting in my nose increased. I set about making tea. By the time the pot whistled I felt at the very least calm. I magicked the tray back into the small living room and offered it to Neville and Draco. I set it down and took a cup to hand to Harry. He did not acknowledge me, not one flicker of the eyes in my direction. I set the cup down, and looked back at him. I brushed a lock of hair behind his ear and whispered his name; hoping that words might catch his attention. They did not. I leaned back. A few moments later the two remaining cups floated off the tray, one disappeared but the other was held before Harry, and he took it. He drank from it, gaze directed at the other end of the couch. I wanted to shout, 'I'm right here, why can't you see me?' I doubted it would do any good; and the gesture would only make me more upset.

The sharpness returned; my thoughts going back to Sirius. 'Why had they said it was he that had taken Harry? They must have been deceived, he was dead.'

* * *

Late into the evening I directed Harry to his bed, he was clearly not going to go there of his own choice so I sent him. I knew too well what staring into a fire and wishing did to a person. He moved under a little applied pressure and I hope he went to sleep. Neville pushed Remus to bed not long after, and then it was only us four left awake, to explain everything.

There was a considerable amount of silent dancing around the subject. I had come back to sit on the couch after showing Harry to bed. Neville came back into the room softly and sat in one of the armchairs opposite. He fixed me with a stare I would not have expected to see from a Longbottom. Malfoy went into the kitchen to refresh the tea for likely the third time this evening. The vampire was standing in the shadows in a stereotypical manner. When Malfoy came back into the room, both moved to take seats; Malfoy, where Remus had been and the vampire in the other available armchair. We were all quiet and each one of them was staring at me. I think we all had too many questions to know where to start asking them.

"As far as I can see," said Malfoy, "we have two overarching problems."

He paused a little too long for my patience which was always short anyways. "Would you like to share Malfoy?"

"Draco, if you please. The first problem is Harry does not acknowledge us for whatever reason; the second is I believe Remus is having the same difficulty seeing you. Why is important in its own way but I think actually solving the problem might be more pressing."

"I think understanding why Harry and everyone else seated here can see a dead man might help," said Neville.

I had little idea of what he was talking about, as far as I knew everyone there was alive.

"I saw you die at the Ministry of Magic last June. You were fighting with Bellatrix and fell through a stone archway. Dumbledore said you died."

I remembered that, and I remembered Harry pulling me out of that cold place. "Harry pulled me out."

"I think I remember seeing that too," said Neville in a way that said he didn't believe it.

"I've seen you as a dog around the castle since the Ministry hearing. Almost always faint, more like a ghost than anything else, except on a few occasions when you were as real as me."

"I've not been pardoned yet." That was a poor response. "No, you're right; I don't know why I'm sitting here. I have very few memories of the last year up until this afternoon."

"Harry conjured you,"

"No, impossible, no one can bring the dead back."

There was quiet again, and pointed looks were shared amongst the three students. Then Neville spoke very softly, "you have not seen what Harry can do."

I was unreasonably uncomfortable about that statement. "So, say Harry is capable of that, why does he not see you? If he truly believed you dead, wouldn't you be dead."

"He doesn't really believe we are dead then."

"Is it possible to prove to him that you aren't?"

We were incapable of answering that last question. The debate went on and on and eventually silence won out.

* * *

Harry came out in the morning; he looked more tired than when Sirius had chased him off to bed. The fire was dead so his focus was not held on any one thing for very long. Sirius offered him tea and he took it, sipping gently. He still didn't speak. Last night, we had all agreed to wait for an opportunity, hoping that we would recognize one if it presented itself. We wandered around the house trying to entertain ourselves without making too much noise. I felt like I was going to burst. Harry didn't say anything and Remus slept.

_Author's Note: I hope you all liked this installment. There will be another chapter up tomorrow that closely follows this one but I am far to tired to edit it properly right now._

_Please Review._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions _


	22. Legilimens

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Two: Legilimens

Neville, Draco and the vampire, Vox, had gone out for a walk, finally fed up with the restlessness of the house. Harry was in an armchair, quiet but not really anything else. The fire was mostly dead. I too was growing restless, impatient and worried. Remus was still asleep; I hoped he stayed there, he was too far stretched. I fell into an armchair with a disregard my mother, while she lived, thought was punishable. I rubbed my face with my hands. Harry looked at me out of the corner of his eye and then the other way.

"Harry, I…" I didn't know the rest of the sentence. He looked again, shook his head and turned the other way.

An hour passed. I had brought the fire back to life, it was still cold by the mountains, and now it roared into a green tower taller than a man and before me stood the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Dumbledore stepped out onto the rug, wiping away traces of soot on his robe, he looked old doing it. There was another flash of green, McGonagall stepped out and a third flash dispensed the last person I wanted to see, Severus Snape.

"Sirius," gasped McGonagall. Perhaps she was the first to take stock of the room or the only one who did not know I was here. I was sure Dumbledore had seen me; that man saw everything and Snape likely knew I was going to be here from one source or another.

Dumbledore was distracted, all his attention on Harry, but McGonagall came to me. I stood up to greet her. I had still managed to be her favorite student despite the mischief I had caused. She touched my arm like her hand would go through me.

"I'm real," I joked.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, clearly oblivious to our reunion, Snape was in the background arms crossed.

"Yes, headmaster," Harry said, infliction making it a question.

"Are you in good health?"

"I am." Dumbledore did not look convinced of such. I was not either; Harry's posture and voice were false.

Dumbledore nodded to Snape and then without saying a word or really making any gesture pointed me into the kitchen. I walked ahead of him and felt more like a spurned cur than anything else. "Why did you take him from the safety of the castle?"

"Why am I newly alive, I've been told that I have been dead for nearly a year?"

"That is something I can't explain yet."

"Then neither can I explain why. I did what I had trained myself to do. James and I made sure this was the safest place we could make it, between our money and our own magic."

"I am sorry it took so long for us to come. Things could not be dealt with quickly, school was closed though the grounds and the castle have become an impromptu shelter for those needing it, those that remember that those are the best wards still standing in the British wizarding world. How has Harry been?"

* * *

I stepped forward after Albus and Black had left the room. McGonagall remained where she was; ever the watch-cat. I studied Harry; Dumbledore had asked me to assess his stability, I was going to assume he meant mental stability, not that I would neglect any meaning. Harry wasn't looking at me.

"Potter,"

"Yes, professor." He didn't turn to make eye contact.

"Where is my apprentice?"

"I'll not speak it and make it true."

That made me pause. Dumbledore had enlightened most of us that had to deal with Potter directly on what Half-Blood Curse did to a person. He had shared as much as he knew. "What will you not make true Potter?"

"I'm sure someone with such skill could figure it out." I knew he was thinking of legilimens but that technique would be dangerous after what Voldemort might have done to his mind.

"Potter, what is Black doing alive?"

"By that statement you imply that he was once dead."

That was interesting, Harry had practically run-away because of that very fact. Black had died, I knew that. Even as I was thinking I knew that, the fact changed; I knew he had died except I knew he hadn't. By the next moment my very own memories were slipping around. I had not seen the event take place, undercover spies were rarely at the front lines lest one side saw you fighting who you should not be fighting, but I had been told and now I had been told a very different story.

I had not believed Dumbledore about the power of the Curse. It had been presented as very old rumors, only half-based in study, the rest made up like so much of wizardry. If the Dark Lord had this power he would have won long ago, already I had seen that power in Harry. He could destroy us all.

I reached out and tipped his chin back so that he had to look at me. I was not the mediwitch but I had similar experience and a greater knowledge of potions, legal and not so legal, as well as other skills. His eyes were not focused in quite the same direction, hardly noticeable but Granger had said that it happened when he was doing magic, and since I was looking for it I found it. He was pale too, but both of those were Potter-normal, a term that I had had to bring into use just to explain him. It was his expression that set me off, naturally defiant and cocksure, now he seemed beaten.

This was not my job, I just barely did well enough taking care of myself in this war. I opened the small chest I had brought with me and pulled out my precious supplies, potions that took months to brew and were poison if even a fraction of a stir went the wrong direction. None of these were poison of course, I had made them after all, but they were my personal stock; calming draughts when even I could not help shaking, and others stronger and more dangerous, potions for forgetting. Dumbledore didn't know I had those of course.

I still couldn't dose him not knowing what really happened. Legilimens was turning into the only viable option.

"Permission?" I queried.

"Permission," he granted, tone flat.

He met my gaze and not only did he allow me access to his mind he shoved memories in front of me like he was showing me photographs across a wooden table in a stone kitchen. As fast as that thought flitted through my mind, we were both personified and sitting at a table worn to a polish. His head was tilted, considering a stack of photos in his hands flipping through them. He tossed a few out onto the table for me to look at.

I set down my own deck of photographs and reached towards the four he had tossed out. He ignored me.

It was only then that I realized that this was not what legilimens looked like. That did not change the settings. This was Harry's creation. I pulled the four photographs towards me and he flipped one more out onto the pile.

I looked at them carefully. The last one he had thrown onto the pile was of him pulling Sirius back out of the veil covered archway. That was not so odd, I knew Sirius was alive. The next was of Draco lifeless in the snow. The third was of the vampire that had exchanged a blood bond with my godson; he had three arrows in him, the fletching, raven black, and a stake in his heart. Longbottom was dead in the fourth photograph. Then Lupin was sprawled, silver knife between his shoulder blades.

These were wrong, they were opposite what they should be, Black was dead, these four lived, if I backed out of this illusion they would be trudging back into the garden and I could see them out the window. I looked up from the photos; there was now a window in the kitchen. The three boys were outside, grim-faced but living, that evident from the redness in their cheeks from the cold, well at least that was true for the humans. Remus stood in the newly appeared doorway.

I looked at Harry, tears slipped down his nose.

"They are not dead."

"No, they aren't," he agreed.

"But they won't be there when we go back, will they?"

"How could they be," he took the pictures out of my hand and shuffled them back into the deck.

"Black is dead, Potter, and you know that."

He did not answer that. I felt like I should not have touched that subject here; this place was too magically fragile. There were places like that all around the magical world. The room of requirement was like that. Wishes were commands and actual words were stronger even than that.

Was Harry's whole world like that now?

"You won't speak it and make it true! You know they aren't dead."

I was kneeling on the floor in front of Potter. There was no reason I should not believe they were dead as he did and did not, but I knew they lived. Those images were too perfect. He handed me another photograph.

This one moved. It was his fight against Voldemort. It was not so much a fight as a desperate struggle, but I got to see what the rest of the circle of observers did not. I heard the Dark Lord say 'imperio,' and then I knew what was wrong. The other pictures perfection was a fabrication. There was more reason than politics to why they did not allow memories from a pensieve as evidence in court. Memories were emotional and could be confused; dreams could be as easily real as the true memories. So that was the difference in him; the Dark Lord had reached in and twisted that which hurt him most. But Harry knew that was what happened, but he was the one that had to solve that problem.

There was nothing I or potions could do to change his state. That was his fight; to remember who the Dark Lord was and what he could do. I had only strength enough for me when I was so assaulted. I felt selfish thinking that but, Light, if the Dark Lord had combined Legilimens and the Imperious curse, spying was no longer an option. I stood, sour and shuddering; knowing spying was all that would save me in this war.

_Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	23. Hermione's Words

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing **

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hermione's Words

Life went on in Remus's cottage; our inconsistent existences still intact. Harry did not see us as living except for Sirius and Remus could not see Sirius. Sometimes I wondered if we saw Harry. He sat so still, like a cat on a windowsill, for so long; it was almost like another form of invisibility.

It warmed considerably during the day though the temperature plunged at night, and it always seemed like clouds obscured the night sky. I wondered if that made the centaurs uneasy about the future. We all hunkered down close to the fire at night as if light and warmth was the only thing that could save us anymore. Draco, Vox and I had taken to reading in the small study at night; there was a second chimney in there, so it was at least physically warm. School, even if it had not been closed, would be over by now. Still Hermione and Ron had not come; I did not know if they were disallowed or if each had chosen not to come. Did he think them dead as well? Snape had come every few days to see Draco and I'm sure to check on Harry, who was unchanged. I made myself scarce when he was around; I could not forgive him for being such a git to me, and I had no doubts that he still begrudged my lack of interest in potions.

Ron and Hermione came the next day, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in tow. Harry saw them; clearly they had not died in his mind. They said hello to me but anything they did to bring any of us into the conversation slipped beyond Harry's notice.

They came the next day and the following. They wanted him back among their crowd; they wanted us to come too but really as a secondary thought. Harry was not interested and told them so, bluntly. They must have felt injured because they left and did not return the next day. Ron did not come back but Hermione did a few days later.

* * *

I stepped ungracefully out of the flue and waved away the soot of travelling. Harry was sitting on the window-seat legs pulled up before him, the curtain half closed. Neville was in the room and I said hello to him. Harry did not turn around at my voice. I went and sat at his feet. Draco and Vox were out in the garden sitting in the grass.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hermione," he acknowledged.

I couldn't think of anything to say so I looked out the window. Draco and Vox were talking, grins flitting across their faces before they remembered the grim events that passed around their little haven.

"Are they together," I blurted out.

He acted as if he did not hear me.

I gathered my courage, "Are Draco and Vox together?"

"Hermione, they were/are blood-bonded." I heard both words; 'were' and 'are' spoken simultaneously. "You were there when it happened."

I gave up on that thread of conversation. I watched him steadily. He had not looked at me once since I sat down. I pulled my feet up and closed the curtain. He didn't move but continued staring out into the garden. Neville had sort of explained that Harry didn't see him, Draco, Vox, or Remus. It didn't really make sense to me. He had to see them, they existed, and I could see them. He was watching them now… what was he thinking?

We watched the two out in the garden for some time, or maybe just I did, I didn't know what he saw out there. I looked back at him. He was pale, as always, and distant. I remembered when he had told me about Half-Blood Curse. His attitude was at once the same and opposite at this moment from then. He was distant and out of touch with the rest of us, but he was cocky no longer. As much as I had despised that arrogance in him I wanted it back, at least then I could pretend we were all safe.

He had left us behind now, Ron was upset about that, affronted that Harry did not want to come back with us. I couldn't bring myself to feel anything but sadness. We would have been close for far longer if not for this war. I missed Harry so very much, Ron had lots of friends, but I took to my books, not seeking anyone's company and no one seeking mine.

I realized that I had leaned forward, our noses close to touching. He hadn't moved. I don't know what possessed me, even now, to do it but I kissed him, not on the cheek like I had before. He didn't move; I might as well have kissed stone. I pulled away, surprised that I did not feel disappointed.

"I'll always be here, Harry." I said, and then I got up took some floo powder and left.

* * *

I watched Hermione open the curtain and walk back across the room to the fireplace. She moved deliberately. I think she was upset though I could not tell why; I had not heard them speak. I waited for some time. Perhaps it was an hour before I got up and went to the window-seat. I sat down, my thumb holding my place in the herbology text I had been reading.

"Hello, Neville."

"Harry?" I said, shocked with my own return to his reality.

"I'm alright," he said, clearly he had misinterpreted my tone.

"I'm glad you can see me again."

"What?" he asked, confusion in the tone if not in his face.

He didn't know that we had been ignored for over two months. "What day is it?" I asked him.

"The second of July, is that important? Except the full moon is in a few days…" He answered in the curious tone that suggested he didn't know the reason behind the question.

"Yes..." I confirmed. "What did Hermione say to you?"

"We'll always be here," his voice was so soft I almost didn't hear him.

* * *

Vox and I had been out in the garden for hours, talking, laughing even when we found enough mirth to do so. That did not happen often. Around mid-afternoon Harry came out of the house Neville at his heels. They were talking… to each other. I hesitated to stand; but Vox was already on his feet. I stood as well, and forgot that we had not existed for two months.

We went for a walk, speaking softly about nothing avoiding the subject of the Dark Lord.

On returning to the house we found Remus sitting on the couch, drinking tea and pretending to read.

"Afternoon, Remus," said Harry; clearly he had forgotten that it had been two months since he had spoken to the man.

"Harry," he sounded shocked, then his voice softened, "how is it outside, cold for this time of year, isn't it?"

"Brisk, yes." Harry poured tea from the pot. "Is Sirius in the study?"

I cringed at the words, he may have been able to see us again, maybe the two months we spent in exile from his reality no longer existed for him; it was certainly trying to fade from our minds, but even for that I doubted Remus could see Sirius.

"Harry, you know where he is," Remus' voice was weary, as if he had explained it before, each time more painful and Harry still dug into the wound.

"Good, I have a question for him." Harry went down the hall and knocked on the study door. It creaked open and his cup that he had left in the living room went floating after him.

"What illusion does he hold now? Is he in there talking to a conjured image?"

Vox spoke, "Harry doesn't conjure images; things are the way he wants them to be. They exist or do not."

Remus smiled sadly.

* * *

I knocked on the study door, opened it and remembering my teacup summoned it to me. I perused the shelves idly. Looking for something I had not studied in the last two months.

"How are you, today?"

"Fantastic, but the weather isn't going to last. I hope it makes it beyond the full moon though."

Sirius paused, "Where is Remus?"

"In the living room with Neville, Draco and Vox," I shrugged. Then after a few more seconds of running my fingers along the spines of old books, I added, "did you two quarrel? He sounded upset when I said your name."

* * *

There was a knock on the door of the study; I had taken to staying in there during the day. Being able to see my last friend, but him not able to see me, and so clearly upset was very close to killing me. So I avoided such encounters like dragonpox; if Remus entered a room I would leave it and so he chased me around the house without knowing he did so. I was mostly safe in the study, Remus remembered it as my favorite room and avoided it, not that he didn't occasionally come in.

"Come in," I said to the knock. Harry pushed the door open and looked up at the shelves. A teacup came zooming in after him. That was unusual, since the battle in Hogsmeade he had not used magic, not that I saw at least. "How are you today?" I asked, tentatively.

"Fantastic, but the weather isn't going to last. I hope it makes it beyond the full moon though."

His voice was so light and airy, more carefree than he had any right to be. Not that I begrudged him his delight but tone and the mention of the full moon worried me. I wasn't sure what to say, if he was suffering from a delusion I dared not bring the fact that he could not see Remus, for thinking him dead, to his attention. But if he would speak of it perhaps Remus had returned to his living.

"Where is Remus?"

"In the living room with Neville, Draco and Vox… Did you two quarrel? He sounded upset when I said your name."

"Harry, Remus saw me die."

"So did I, I pulled you back."

"Yes you did," I felt myself frown, not meaning to, "but Remus doesn't know that so he still thinks me dead."

Harry frowned too, "How very strange," he said, tone altogether changed, no longer childlike, it sounded like when Dumbledore said 'strange,' like he already knew the answer but that other people would not understand. He had paused in his search for books, and after looking darkly into his teacup he took a sip. I watched as all his habits came back to him in one moment. His face changed slightly, a little more color, the scar a little less ragged around the edges, hair a little tamer. I realized then for the first time how not human he looked when not disguised. Everything about him was in extremes, skin white, black hair, bright eyes, long fingers, and other things. As if his heritage was closer to magical beings than the rest of us. Besides the mask he now held, the double images came back, I could see the real him and his second face, as well as a third and the shadow of a fourth just waiting for the need to be used. His teacup which had been near to empty was now perpetually full. I knew he would not sleep well tonight nor really ever. He had remembered that Voldemort was still out there, undefeated. I felt the magic come back into the air around him. It felt like swimming underwater with a bubble head charm; you could still breathe but you knew you could be so close to drowning, with the thunderous weight of 100 ft of water above you.

* * *

We had somehow been brought back to life in Harry's eyes. Neville had said that it was something Hermione had done. Though what that was, was unknown to us, perhaps just being alive, though she and Weasley had been here far too many times for that to be the single factor. Regardless of our return, Remus was still unconvinced that Sirius lived. It was interesting to see him become suddenly ignorant when Sirius entered a room or one of us spoke to him.

I had grown close to Sirius over the last two months while Harry was, while Harry was… not around; he was one of my closer cousins, blood-wise, and now the only one who would not throw me to my knees before the dark lord. He was very much like me; parents supported Voldemort but rebelled and found a good friend in a Potter (more proof that history repeats). He and Harry were very much alike as well; personalities and reactions mirrors of each other. It was so strange to hear identical opinions from the two while they sat on opposite sides of the room.

Besides insisting on reminding Remus that Sirius lived there was little we could do to change his view. Unfortunately while Harry had had a similar issue with us, his magic and his very view of the world was so fluid that he could make things like death distant, an event that never happened, never could happen to those around him. Sirius had not died and been brought back to life, he had never died at all. Remus was not so flexible, so Sirius remained beyond the veil, at least that was my guess. That was interesting in itself. Commonly Harry's perception of the world overrode ours regardless of how fantastic his view might be; but Remus opposed not only Harry's view but also something I think he himself would wish were true; that Sirius was alive.

_Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this. Please Review._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	24. The Twins' Shop

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Twins' Shop

The full moon arrived and we went out into the moors to run with the werewolf. Remus had received his wolfsbane potion from Snape for several days prior to the full moon. Sirius had chosen to stay in the cottage, a wreck of emotion to anyone who knew him though I doubted anyone outside the Herons would notice. Neville and I had both found our true shapes though Harry still had the ease of slipping into any one of a number. Vox came with us safe from the curse through some magic he wouldn't explain. His lope was easy beside us when we trotted below the trees but once we broke cover out onto the heather moors Remus, Neville and Harry leapt across the space and within seconds were lost in the gray beyond our sight. I turned from horse to human to walk with Vox, safe, knowing we would hear them long before they came too close. Eventually they did come back to us and before dawn we had returned to the cottage.

* * *

The summer continued. But it was not long before we were preparing to return to Hogwarts for our last year. A certain melancholy touched me and there seemed to be a sadness in all of us as if we knew that this was the year that would end the war, though with devastating consequences. We procrastinated; as long as we could just hold onto the last days of summer we could remain in limbo, remain in uncertainty, and remain undisturbed. Alas it was not to be. Two days before start of term and the train ride to Hogwarts we went to Diagon Alley. All the old delights we had taken in as children were lost somewhere in a fear that drove shoppers to do their business as swiftly as possible. We wondered up the streets, Ollivander did business by appointment only and Florean Fortescue's was doing no business at all. The single shop that ran business as usual was Fred and George's impressive joke shop. It was full to bursting with students, and older wizards who should not have taken such delight in puking pasties.

"Hallo Harry," shouted Fred. "How are you?"

"Up to no good, I hear," said his twin who had appeared by our side. "Come on, I'll show you into the back."

We followed him behind a curtain and through a stock room into a workshop.

"So this is what the Triwizard winnings bought you," Harry mused.

"It's what that money began."

Fred came into the room, "We'd been hoping you would stop by."

"We heard about that incident with the mirror…"

"…and I think we've got something pretty wicked like it."

Harry crossed his arms; I think he was frustrated by how his life got spread out and picked apart by everyone he met.

"It's a bit cumbersome,"

"still great against ambushes,"

"if you're out camping or something,"

"or really just standing around anywhere,"

"train station,"

"library,"

"bathtub,"

George gave Fred a funny look and continued, "We just can't make it move with you…"

"and that means it isn't much good for anything worthwhile." Fred pulled a drape off one of the tables. Six triangular pyramids sat, looking rather innocent, on the wooden surface.

"Hmm, I don't think I'm going to be much use to you. Things just are the way they are around me."

"Would you just try something for us?"

"just set them up and make them move with you."

"We don't really care how you do it just so we can see."

I frowned; it was fantastic that they had accomplished so much with traditional spells as to recreate something that I had done without understanding. I pulled the pyramids towards me and floated them about. "How strongly can they reverse spells?" I asked.

"Moderate to heavy curses, haven't dared try anything that doesn't have a direct counter-curse."

"So probably not the unforgivables?"

"I'd think not. I mean you're the only one to ever survive the one…,"

My mouth twitched down.

"And from what we hear of Nott, reverses of those spells aren't exactly the most fun."

The six boxes floated aimlessly around me.

"See that, Fred?"

"Curious,"

"Ingenious my brother, ingenious,"

"What?"

"Well, we've always been good at practical magic; theory was boring beyond belief…"

"and around fourth year, I guess it was,"

"we discovered something,"

"We see magic,"

"like threads of it, we understand it, how it does work, how it changes things, how it ties things together."

"That is curious," said Neville.

"Seems like you'd be better at theory then," Draco deadpanned, and then spoke up, voice musing, "I've heard that runs in some families, very rare, almost to the point that people were skeptical that the skill was real."

"Nah, that stuffs dead boring. Anyway, we can see what you are doing."

"Hmm, seems like seven would be a better number than six. Stronger, tie six around the ring and one on the person so that is attached to them…"

"Makes sense, that's a lot of work," the twins looked at each other.

"It takes us about two weeks to make just one of the pyramids."

"Of course, that's on top of everything else we're doing,"

I turned one over in my hands and closed my eyes. Fifteen more sets spilled over the desk. Each set contained six pyramids the size a fist and one that was as small as a cherry. "It's a worthy cause, and a genius bit of magic," I said.

* * *

Harry went a little distant. "Just make sure to protect them, okay? I wouldn't want those to be used against anyone on my side."

"I think we were already planning on it."

"Yes indeed George."

"I rather the ministry not see them either," Harry added.

"You got it Harry," Fred said sounding chipper and excited.

I spoke then, "You can see magic,"

"Righto,"

I decided I didn't know how to pursue that question further so I didn't. Though I swore to myself I would be writing to them about it.

"Yeah, we kept it pretty quiet after people acted all shocked and upset about it."

"Apparently, it makes us almost as dangerous as Harry, here," said one of the twins slinging an arm over Harry's shoulder. They were of a height with him, though not so deathly skinny. I wondered who had advised them of that. It was true, magic sight made a lot of things possible, including nefarious uses like disrupting wards and magical objects, sometimes reversing their purpose altogether. The last person known to have magic sight had been an extremely successful tomb robber. He still hadn't gotten into Gringott's though.

_Author's Note: So this is a little short but we got to see the twins who are always a joy._

_Thanks for your time, and please review._

_~Shifted Illusions_


	25. A Warning

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Five: A Warning

None of us took the train back to school. The six of us apparated to before the gates before the train was due to arrive, while there was still light in the sky. Remus had decided to take the job of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Sirius was coming because he absolutely refused to be left at the cottage, and Grimmauld Place had enough bad memories that he was not going to go back there anytime soon. He had more or less handed over the keys to Dumbledore and the Order. The Weasleys practically lived there now; it was significantly safer than The Burrow and roomier besides.

We walked through the gates, security seemed to be non-existent. None of us believed that for a second, but we passed through with no hindrance all the same. The school grounds were still covered with rows of wizard tents. Most looked more like miniature castles themselves but each one showed signs of wear. The inhabitants did not show the same tiredness as their homes, just the fear that accompanied being driven from their proper residences. As we walked up the main road through the tents, people showed us as much fear as they might Death Eaters. I didn't know what had been going on in the world outside our summer home, my father would be shamed by my ignorance, but it seemed like our company had seen a fall in public favor. Harry was usually oblivious, well as far as he showed, and today was no different. His stance and stride were sure. Not a labor up the hill to the entrance to Hogwarts castle but a stroll. Remus had taken to a cane, Sirius walked slightly behind hand ready to catch any stumble and one assumed Harry had given him a different face for the onlooker's. Neville was hunched, against a cold wind, or maybe the cold stares. Vox was the only one that had not changed. What a contrast it was from even yesterday. We were weaker here it seemed, or maybe the world was just too close, too present.

I heard snippets of conversation. "He shouldn't be allowed here," "He's not stable what if he attacks the students?"

It seemed Harry was not ignorant of the people around us. He was amplifying their voices so that at least I could hear if not the others. He still looked untouched but his shoulders twitched, a sign of irritation, something barely there. I was beginning to guess that we had been treated harshly in the paper all summer long. The question then was why and by whom? If it was the Ministry that posed a few problems, Harry could be forced to leave Hogwarts. The decrees from Umbridge's reign, while mostly repealed, still held sway in the most important points of power; including the expulsion of students, especially if the student could be convicted of a crime, (though normally their expulsion from Hogwarts would be automatic for that offense.) Harry certainly could; though it was unlikely that he would allow that to happen if he did not wish it. The second source of the bias could be from the media, who only ever had half the facts, and had more influence on the public than any other single entity.

We were leaving the last few lines of tents when a woman of thirty years marched towards our group. She got ahead of us and stopped in Harry's path. Harry walked right up to her, she held her ground though, and he was forced to stop or walk through her. Something I didn't doubt he could do, but he did stop. She was close to crying, mouth quivering. She raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek.

* * *

I was a little stunned that someone would slap me. It made me wonder if I deserved it. I did not know the woman though and had no clue as to how I had offended. I wasn't sure how to react, my face remained carefully blank but doubt nudged in.

"Excuse me," I said.

"Excuse you? Never, not for what you've done, there is no excuse for that."

I wondered briefly what the paper was saying now, I had not bothered with it for some months, but clearly the rest of the world had and it was apparently not supportive.

I decided not to deal with it. I'd had enough of this before to know that anything I did would not help. "Please, you're on the path…"

She screamed and lifted fists towards me. She beat helplessly against the barrier that suddenly surrounded me, yelling, "my boy, my baby boy,"

I wondered how old he had been. I remained motionless waiting for her to quit but she did not until grey robed members of the law enforcement seized her. "Seize him," she cried still flailing in my direction, "he's the reason my son is dead."

She was taken from the path, and I wasn't sure if I should move on. Did all the people camped here feel like this? Did they all hate me? I didn't care except for the force sitting at the edge of my home. Neville gave me a little push forward starting me into a moving stride again.

We entered the castle and saw the headmaster in the entrance hall. He was not the only one standing there; more grey robed law enforcement wizards stood about, two flanked us. Dumbledore looked strained; he was talking to one of the wizards in a slightly darker grey and an emblem denoting rank on his breast. He looked at me briefly, and I felt a piece of parchment take shape in my hand. I nodded and led the herons up the stairs the two guards that flanked us falling behind at a gesture from the ranked officer. Remus and Sirius followed. Sirius' hackles were raised and Remus seemed all the more wary, yellow eyes flitting about, catching every one of the wizards.

* * *

After entering the castle the air grew heavy and hostile. It was suffocating. Sirius and Remus obviously felt it as we went up the stone staircase. Draco and Vox were pressed shoulder to shoulder and Harry looked like a cat that was trying to look as big as a dog which was the strangest part, for he always looked as if nothing unfavorable was happening. The tension did not ease from the party until we were well out of sight of the grey-robed figures.

Our feet beat the path to the room of requirement, the path too familiar to us to need to think about it. I knew it would be our home for this year, Draco could not go alone into Slytherin, and Harry would not go back to Gryffindor. Remus would likely stay as close to us as possible, and for that so would Sirius, though since he was almost unknown as an Animagus he could go as he pleased in that form. For that matter so could we, though admittedly a horse and a fox would likely bring comment inside the castle. Vox too was unprotected, both sides wanting him gone, either dead or far away from their homes, to go anywhere without one of us. When we arrived in our corridor, however there was practically an army standing there waiting for us. I counted five red robed aurors and at least 20 greys standing before the portrait of the trolls in tutus. "and today is but the first day of term, light, this year…" My step faltered and I saw the hesitation in the others, except Harry who hardly noticed the force arrayed before our door. He walked towards them and then through them like a ghost when they did not back up. He turned the handle to the large door that had appeared and opened it. The party of law enforcement agents parted shivering. I followed though the gap, it was as cold as death. Harry held the door open until the last of us had entered. Then before the aurors could make a move the door shut.

I was ready to collapse on the sofa before the lively fire but I waited.

The others moved about but Harry too had paused.

"Light, what have they said against us?" It was a whisper that I didn't think anyone was supposed to hear. Then Harry straightened and removed a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. He unfolded it and read the loopy handwriting of the headmaster, distinctive enough to recognize from where I was standing.

* * *

_Harry,_

_This is to warn you of dangers that stand now within Hogwarts. The Ministry continues its quest to discredit you, it uses legal avenues; there is a warrant for your arrest as an illegal Animagus and several counts of assault. They count you as a fugitive and I am afraid I cannot officially permit you to attend classes or live in Hogwarts. Due to the encampment on the grounds there are law enforcement agents living in Hogwarts for the protection and peace of the students and refugees. They have orders to arrest you on sight. Since the battle in Hogsmeade, fear has been a bargaining chip used by anyone one sly enough to see self-benefit, and it does not take much wit to see it and more than most have to reject the temptation. There has been much confusion over the end of that battle and where you went after, especially because a few people recognized the still fugitive Black. Indeed, they have not revoked their judgment on him. The media has not treated you kindly and I regret that you will likely experience more events like the fight with Nott of last year but they will not be from Voldemort's followers alone. I am sorry that I cannot offer more support, I'd lose all the positive influence I have within the ministry, something I cannot afford, something we cannot afford. My official stance must be that you are the renegade that the ministry has named you though I will do everything in my power to convince them that the more dangerous threat is from Riddle, I can do no more until he is dead. Unofficially I offer my advice as feeble as it might be. I know you will be discrete. I would still like to talk to you directly._

_Albus_

"How very interesting." I muttered. "I have dropped into shadow."

I summoned parchment from one of the desks and a quill.

_Albus,_

I started unsure of what to say to him.

_Thank you for the warning. I hereby formally withdraw from classes though I will keep the castle and grounds as my residence during the school term. I have already experienced hostility and an attempted arrest and weathered both. This is the end._

_Harry_

The last statement had written itself. Though I felt the truth of it, a resignation that came from somewhere unidentifiable, not my mind, I still fought the prophecy, and my heart was full of dread, but from somewhere resolve settled on me.


	26. The Pyramid Shields

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Pyramid Shields

It was not until breakfast that Harry told us he would not be taking classes this year, and despite all our wishes that he finish school and NEWTs, his reasoning was sound when he explained why he could not. He promised us he would study, but his mode of magic did not hold well with the normal practice or theory, regardless of how interesting he or anyone else found them to be, that was taught by the teachers in Hogwarts. He promised to attend the non-magic classes like herbology and potions, though those were the only two he made any vows about. Remus had managed to retrieve our timetables from our former Heads of House. The schedules were full of free time but I knew that the library was the only place to spend that extra time if I had any hope of doing well on NEWTs.

* * *

The first weeks of school proved to be as Dumbledore had predicted, there was not one time that I was in the halls among the students and had not been attacked. Normally the attacks were short, no more than a few spells shot at me and I knew it was a different person each time and not always former fellow students. Adults that had taken up residence walked the halls too and those with less sense then snails aimed at me as well. They did not aim at me alone; they targeted my friends and really anyone standing too close to me in the halls. The original difficulty of walking in the crowded corridors faded quickly when a trend of hospital wing visits plagued those that lingered near me in the halls. Pockets of space followed me wherever I went; this phenomenon was useful, allowing me swift passage but it made me a much more obvious target than hidden amongst my taller peers. Whenever I passed aurors in the corridors they made attempts at my arrest. It was easiest to let them think they had and they would walk off with a beaten Harry Potter in their grasp, but it was never me. By October, the ministry had issued a warning similar to the one they had posted about Sirius when we were in third year.

* * *

The beginning of school was hard. Homework put us in the library every spare minute. We worked late into the night and by the time our homework was done we were asleep in the armchairs arranged before the fire, sometimes we had not finished, such was the work load placed on the seventh years. That and the precautions taken by the staff and the ministry to keep us safe from the rogue that walked amongst us took so much time that it amazed me that we still ate, that I still ate at meal times. We were attacked several times when Harry was not around. One evening we had been returning from the library when the ends of the corridor we had been walking along had filled with hooded figures. By the time we noticed them a volley of spells had already been cast. It was lucky that that corridor was one of the ones with a secret passage off it, lucky that we had been so close to that passage way. As it was we had been hit with a few nasty curses each. Lucky that we knew the counter curses. After that night Harry didn't let us out of his sight and regardless of how tedious our schedules might be he followed. About a month into the term we received a large package carried by three owls.

_Harry, Draco, Neville and Vox,_

_These are for you. They are the final product of the mirror shield experiment. We have decided to close our shop in Diagon Alley; it has become too dangerous to do business. Our store room was broken into two nights ago. We had been expecting it and measures were in place, but some of our other defense work was stolen. Harry, these shields are still our secret, in so far as how they work, and only the ones in this box, the ones we wear, the ones we have sent to select family members and three that were sent to Luna, Hermione, and Lee exist. Unfortunately when our parents and Percy would not swear to keep them secret we had to refuse to share the shields with them. So it is very likely that both Dumbledore and the ministry know that we have developed the technology and will likely pursue us and anyone they suspect might possess one. Be wary. On a less serious note, we are relocating to Hogsmeade to compete with Zonko's. No competition there though. We're sure you can slip away to manage mischief with us often._

_Best regards,_

_Gred and Feorge_

We relocated to the room of requirement to open the package itself. Sirius was lounging on one of the sofas, reading. He stood up and joined us at the table when we opened it. Nestled in the padding were five blue boxes and a slightly smaller black one. The lids were engraved with our names. _Remus, Sirius, Vox, Draco, _and_ Neville_ were written in silver on the blue ones and also in silver was, _Harry, _on the black box.

I was passed the box that had my name on it. I undid the clasp and lifted the lid. Seven small pyramids rested in a circle with one in the center.

There was a note:

_Carry the pyramid in the center, put it on a necklace or an earring, or just hold it in your pocket. The others will follow it and will be invisible once you are linked to it. To link it to you hold the center pyramid so that both your hands cover it completely and speak your chosen password. The password is the only way to remove it from your person and it must be spoken in your voice and then removed by your hand. If force is applied to them by any other person they will self-destruct. May they serve you well._

I gently removed the center pyramid, held it as described and said 'equus.' At the sound of my voice the other pyramids leapt from the box and swirled around me and then winked out of sight. Around me, Neville, Vox, and Sirius were having similar experiences. Harry still had not opened his.

* * *

I took the black box out of the packaging while Neville handed out the others. I did not open mine immediately, staring at the lid instead. Beside me Draco muttered, 'equus,' and Sirius said, "Moony." I did not hear the passwords the others had chosen. As they spoke the pyramids jumped into the air, started to orbit around them and then they disappeared. I pressed the clasp and lifted the lid.

_Dear Harry,_

_We figured you had no need of the shields beyond the comfort of knowing your friends and loved ones are protected. We have made something else for you. It requires some explanation that should be prefaced with telling you that we are no longer a part of the Order of the Phoenix. On the origin of our gift: we were third years when we discovered the theory of it but it took most of that year and the next to prefect the object itself. It is a long distance hearing device. It works much like the Extendable-Ears but it is linked to specific people. We each wear one linked to our twin and to Lee. Lee wears one linked to each of us. We used them all the time when we were in detention to talk (especially when we were set to scrubbing cauldrons.) The one we have given you is already linked to us. Also in the box is the potion used to make the stone insets. Just take a hair from the person and dip it into the potion it will turn it into a stone that can then be placed on the device. To listen: simply touch the stone that belongs to the person. The device will grow cold if someone is touching their stone that corresponds to you. For example if you were to touch the blue stone, the device that Fred wears would go cold. In addition if Fred had your stone it would glow so he would know who was listening in and could talk back. So we humbly request that you send us two hairs._

_On the matter of the Order of the Phoenix: after we wrote the first letter Dumbledore confronted us about the mirror shields, and clever as he may be, he expected that we would be willing to provide the same technology to the order. We clearly could not. We were cautious giving away as many as we did even though they all went to trustworthy people. There is a flaw in the shields; when they are not being worn they can be linked to a new wizard by the same process as the first time and if the wearer is imperio-ed then he can be forced to remove the shield. Though that at least would require the caster to know both that the shield existed and how to remove it. This desertion of the Order has left us out of favor with our parents and Dumbledore. We believe most of the Order does not know. And thus we offer our services to you._

_Fred and George_

_P.S. We will be in Hogsmeade this weekend; we're sure we'll see you there in front of Honeydukes._

I set aside the letter and removed from the folds of cloth in the box, a small cuff. I had seen its like before on Lee's ear as well as silver glints from under the twins' shaggy hair. 'So this is what those were. Curious device…' Set in the cuff I was holding were two stones, one dark blue and the other sulfur yellow. The blue was for Fred making the yellow for George. I twisted the cuff onto my ear. Conjuring an envelope, I looked around for Hedwig, she was not on her perch, meaning she was out hunting. I plucked the two hairs requested out and put them in the envelope, sealed it and pocketed it to send on later. I closed the box and put it in my trunk.

_Author's Note: I must confess I did not come up with the listening device. Somewhere in the fanfiction world there is another that is very similar though not quite the same. I would like to thank the originator of the idea but I can neither remember who nor find them in my search. So cheers to whoever thought of it and thanks for forgiving me for borrowing it. It seems to be precisely the kind of object Fred and George might create._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	27. The Triangle

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Triangle

That weekend was not scheduled as a Hogsmeade weekend. But Saturday morning I left Neville and Draco hunched over books and parchment, willing to leave them, shielded as they were. I strolled to the statue of the witch with the hump and gave it the password. The tunnel was dark like I remembered and freezing cold. I was careful as I exited into the basement in Honeyduke's shop since I didn't want to startle someone with a trapdoor that shouldn't be there. I became invisible as I crept up the old staircase and left the shop and its very confused clerk. I had never seen the streets of Hogsmeade so deserted. I let myself be visible again, pretending I had been there all along. I waited a few minutes before two figures brushed past me; they had wizard hats on over ginger hair, and when they looked back at me I could see it was the twins. They hurried on and I gave them just long enough to make it seem that I was not following. Their furtive look had made it clear that for whatever reason we were not to be linked in anyone's mind. I stepped through the mud after them and when they turned down an alley I ducked in just a few steps behind. We had not gone far and I suspected that from the upper stories the store fronts on the main stretch would still be visible.

"Hey, Harry," said Fred, while George was unlocking the door.

"Hey."

We then went up the stairs and through another locked door into an apartment.

They plopped down into chairs and I did the same.

"So, Harry,"

"We hear things are a bit crazy in the castle,"

"Aurors,"

"Death eaters,"

"Scared adults,"

"How have you been?"

Their manner of speaking was always a little off-putting, the transitions were so smooth that half the time I didn't realize the other was speaking, and they were more direct than anyone I had ever talked to. "Things are as one might expect. The shields are working marvelously."

"Why wouldn't they?" His voice was jesting.

"Of course, how did I ever doubt you?"

"You didn't"

"Precisely, now tell me about Dumbledore and the Order."

"We'll start at the beginning…"

"After you visited us in Diagon Alley we enthusiastically worked on completing the other spells on the shields…

"Charming the security features…"

"But we were still running our shop so it was only about a week ago that we actually finished. We activated our sets, and the next time Lee came by we gave a set to him. Then we visited Charlie and Bill. They swiftly agreed to the conditions we requested and activated their sets. We distributed the rest by mail, but before we were willing to give ones to Mum, Dad, and Percy we had to know if they would keep them secret. We met with all of them but they felt that the technology should be contracted with the ministry or held with the Order."

"We only told them that the shields would protect against ambushes, nothing else about the nature or origin of the device…"

"They absolutely refused, so we told them that we could not give the shields to them…"

"Mum went all weepy on us…"

"I think she was just stressed…"

"She called us traitors and war profiteers…"

"We tried to explain why we couldn't take the risk of any but a few having or even knowing about it…"

"Dad was almost willing to keep the secret but mum bullied him…"

"The last thing she said to us was,"

"'I can't believe you boys are hoarding a technology that could save hundreds of lives, and from your own parents, don't you love us?'" The impression was eerie and gave me chills.

"I have to tell you, Harry, that hurt,"

"But, your logic still held, every person is another chance for the secret to escape, or be stolen."

"The next day Dumbledore, himself, showed up at our shop…"

"He waltzed into the back room like he was a business partner…"

"and asked to see the shielding device."

"we told him we couldn't do that."

"He asked why not, and we said loose lips sink ships."

"My lips aren't loose, he said…"

"We shrugged, told him we couldn't risk it."

"He reminded us that we were part of the Order…"

"I said, 'about that…'"

"'We resign.'"

"He said, boys, boys, it has become very dangerous, the Order needs all the protection they can get and so do you."

"He tried a lot of things to get us to tell him or show him the pyramids, including insinuating that he might point the ministry in our direction about our Magic Sight."

Their story paused while I considered. That sounded like a very different Dumbledore from the one that had cautioned me at the beginning of term. But perhaps his note to me had been a subtle attempt to manipulate me. He had not asked me to do anything, it had an effect of mending a few of the burned bridges but perhaps that was the first step.

"And after that…" I prompted.

"Our shop was broken into that night. No evidence that it was Voldemort, could as easily been Dumbledore's agents after the mirror shield secrets."

"You said in your letter that some of your other work was stolen."

"Yeah, a minor project,"

"It wasn't working out to our expectations."

"Oh…" I said.

"The notes they got weren't even the most recent so no real worries there…"

"It was in our cipher anyway…"

"Well, it looks like we've made our own side here in this war."

"Never really thought about it…" said George pensively.

"He's right though, Gred. Voldemort is vile but the ministry is almost as bad the way they treat werewolves and vampires and anyone else they consider a threat."

"We're at your service, Harry, like we said; whatever you need."

"Guys you can't just throw your faith at my feet."

"Why not, Harry."

"Because…" I said but couldn't think of a better protest. 'I'm not going to make it past this war' was too dismal to bring up. Instead after a pause I said, "because, both sides are blinded by their leaders, leaders that are not perfect, nor even very humble. If what you said is true, and I don't doubt you, Dumbledore can bully as much as Voldemort does and the Ministry is more corrupt and corroded than an apple in acid."

"Speech, Speech," they yelled clapping raucously. I knew the tease in them. "Really though, Harry, our corner will need a rallying point."

"Corner?"

"Well, the war is a triangle now, right?"

"Um, sure."

"We need a figurehead,"

"I cannot be that," I grit my teeth, and dropped all the guises I had up. "See, I can't, I'm not good enough."

They hesitated, their joking manner disappeared, it practically fell off their faces.

"See, I'm willing to intimidate even my friends to have my way," I re-imagined slipping the mask back onto my face.

"Harry, no, that's not it,"

"You were making a point."

"And you're right, you aren't meant for that, you're going to have to break even your own rules in the end."

"Forget it, that's hardly the most important thing."

I swallowed. "This is going to be the DA all over again isn't it?"

They grinned like foxes in a chicken coop. "A resistance, yes."

Upon discussion it was decided that we only had thirteen sound members, and two pending; the herons, the twins and Lee, Sirius, Remus, Ginny, Luna, Ron and Hermione. The twins insisted that Charlie would be happy to swear to 'The Cause,' as they had grandly started calling it, and Bill would certainly help if not switch corners completely. I was silent as they bantered outside my realm of interest. Fifteen. So few. I had never wanted the fight to come so close. All summer it had been as far away as dreams and now it was proposed that it would be down to us, and anyone else we could find that would harbor us. I surged to my feet and then froze. Fred and George looked up at me, a little shocked.

"It can't be like this, run or hide; you can't be a part of this. It's going to come down to Voldemort or me; you don't matter to him, save yourselves."

"What if he kills you, Harry, where would we be then, our family has always been light and muggle-lovers to boot; do you think he'd forget us? And if our magic-sight is ever spilled to anyone in the ministry do you really think we could walk free of them?" They stood and stepped toward me and I involuntarily shifted my weight backwards.

"Run, hide, don't wait."

"We're as well marked as you," Fred gently touched the scar on my forehead.

"We can't run, tell Ron and Ginny, tell Hermione and Luna, they can flee. We can no longer, Dumbledore remembers our special talent; he was the one that told us to keep it secret."

"They won't run, none of them will." Fred still had his thumb on the scar, fingers brushing aside my fringe.

I closed my eyes and saw all of us collapsing onto the couch so that I could cry on their shoulders about the unfairness of it all, but no trigger came, no tears that would excuse such behavior. So I remained standing. My eyes opened, Fred removed his fingers.

* * *

Harry backed out of our reach, "I told them I would be back by dinner."

"Okay, we'll see you around; you're always welcome to pop in."

"Sure, see you around."

We let him out the door and he went invisible before his foot was across the threshold.

"Did you ever see such magic?" I mused out loud. Harry had lifted everything into the air when he had closed his eyes and then put it all back down. Anything that could shatter did with a spectacular noise that Harry didn't seem to notice.

Fred flicked his wand at a few of the items and muttered reparo; I did the same.

"No, I never did."


	28. An Altered Mind

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Eight: An Altered Mind

Harry returned to the room of requirement in frenzy. He paced the length of the room for half an hour, and then an hour, then two. I had herbology to study and ignored him. He muttered to himself, something over and over that I could not make out. Remus came in and snatched at his shoulder but Harry brushed him off and kept at it. Then he stopped and sat down pulling a book to him to read and seemed as though he had quite calmed down. Sirius also sat down on the same couch as Harry though carefully not touching him.

"I'm not going to bite, Sirius." growled Harry.

"Well just in case, I don't want to get rabies."

"Sirius, I don't have rabies," said Harry a lighter tone in his voice.

"You were foaming at the mouth." I looked over at Remus who looked tense and saddened.

"Am not, Sirius!"

"You nearly took off Remus' head earlier."

"Sirius, I'd never hurt you or Remus."

Remus exploded to his feet. Harry looked up from his book to stare at Remus.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"He's not there, Harry, you can't bring back the dead."

"Remus, I'm talking to him. He's as real as you."

"No, you're not. He died." Harry stood.

"He's sitting there, reading _Charms for tricksters"_

Remus paled. "He's not, Harry, you're seeing things…"

Harry had crossed the room, though he had done so without traversing the distance between.

"Remus, Sirius is there, alive, well. I saved him."

"He fell, he died, Bella killed him."

Harry moved violently and caught Remus by the hand and touched his temple; as swift as his motion may have been his grip was as gentle. Remus closed his eyes and sank into the chair. Harry let go and stepped away. Remus' hands covered his face and then he lifted his head and looked at Sirius. A look of horror flashed across Harry's face, eye's flickering wider and whatever color he had drained completely away, and he turned and left the room, running. I carefully, quickly, and quietly packed up my books and left after Harry. He was standing stiffly in the corridor.

"Come on, Draco and Vox are in the library," I suggested, not quite daring to put a comforting hand on his arm.

* * *

Neville and I walked in silence towards the library. He was giving me concerned glances every few minutes but he did not speak, I almost wish he had. I didn't know what I had done. I had been standing by the couch and Remus' words had sounded so hurt. I couldn't let it be me that was causing it. I knew Sirius was alive. I knew it and I had to make him see it too. With that desire I had been standing before Remus one hand on his and the other touching the graying hair above his ear. Then he knew what I did, that Sirius was alive. I had changed his memory. I had altered his mind. I felt horrific; maybe I shouldn't live amongst all these people after all. I could do anything to them. I had not fully made that decision, I had merely wanted him to be happy. I had reached in and twisted his mind the same as Voldemort had done to me, but I had done it without really thinking about it while Voldemort had had control over everything he altered. I shivered. I had violated some boundary; one I wouldn't want anyone to cross with me, but I had crossed it. One might argue for the better but that didn't matter. The unbalanced feeling continued. I felt vile but I felt better too because I knew that Remus was happier and so was Sirius. That duality made me squirm all the more.

* * *

Harry and I reached the library quickly and found the other two in the far corner. Vox was reading leisurely but Draco was pushing his quill across the parchment fast enough to tear holes in it, his head bouncing from looking at a large text to his own handwriting and back. He did not look up when we entered. Vox however set his book down, place marked with a black ribbon.

"Harry," he said, his voice clear and high, as usual, but tinged with worry, "are you alright? You look ill."

Draco did look up at that point. He had bags under his eyes, the same as me I was sure. We were nearing the middle of term and every last teacher had decided that next week would be a marvelous time to test our knowledge. I had enough classes that I was nearly breaking under the pressure and Draco carried three more than I did. I looked at Harry as everyone's focus seemed to have been leveled at him. He did look sick to his stomach.

"I'm fine," he waved away our concern with his normal flippancy. "You're the one we should be concerned about. When was the last time you slept?"

With Harry's first words Draco had gone back to work. "I've got sixteen feet of parchment to write for arithmancy, ten for astronomy, twenty for Severus, and exams to study for in every other class." He did not actually answer the question. I did not know for certain that he had slept in the last week. I went to bed earlier and rose later than he did. Harry should know; Harry never went to sleep.

Draco continued scribbling, if anything he seemed to be writing faster. "What happened in the room?"

* * *

I knew something had happened; he was deflecting with his usual grace but that was something I had grown used to recognizing. "What happened in the room?"

I peered up through the hair that had fallen in front of my face; I swept it back with a hand. Harry looked ill, but then he always looked pale; his expression now was something else. Something had disturbed him deeply. With the question he looked at me sharply.

I decided that we would only get into a battle of wills if I were to pursue the query so I changed the subject.

"Never mind, I'm sure it will work out in the end. How are the twins?"

His lips moved, his voice was too low to hear, but I had learned to read lips. 'It has already worked out, that is the problem.' Then his voice returned, "The twins are fine, settled into a nice flat about a block up the hill from Honeydukes. I guess they are renting the whole house, their apartment is on top but I think the lower floor will be the new location of their shop." He expounded on his visit a little. It seemed Dumbledore could be as pushy as Voldemort or the ministry. My note taking slowed as he spoke. Part of me recognized that as vital as schoolwork might be the war might just kill us first if I didn't consider it well. Traditionally the war was thought to have two sides. Voldemort was a rebel leading rebel forces against the established Ministry. But a third important group had been part of the last war as well as this one, The Order of the Phoenix, led by Dumbledore as a vigilante force. They were fighting against the Dark Lord, putting them on the side with the ministry, but they also had squabbles there but only a few and minor at that. During this war though there had been another group put into play. Harry had been a focus point of each force either as mortal enemy or as salvation. That had been the beginning. Now Harry was a leading threat against Voldemort and the Ministry and was only vaguely allied with Dumbledore and his order.

"It's become a triangle." I said.

Everyone stopped.

"Yes," said Harry, "That's what I was just coming to; the twins and I discussed it when I was there. It seems that we are on a very different corner from everyone else."

"Six against everyone," muttered Neville.

"Actually it's closer to thirteen against everyone," said Harry brightly.

"Well that's evened the odds considerably," said Neville.

"How many isn't important," I cut in, finally putting down my quill resigning myself to the fact that I would accomplish no more work tonight, "All that matters is how strong."

It was a strange discussion; mainly because Harry was the only one that had truly considered what he could do against the threats on his life and happiness. Any action any of the rest of us had taken had been purely spurred by the moment. Even my refusal to join the Death Eaters had been an emotional response, one of disgust, and, I'll admit, downright terror (though pride was in there too and that was the answer that I would give anyone who asked.) By the end of the conversation, we had run circles around the whole thing, through dinner and into the evening, and we could only conclude that we could take no action other than to defend ourselves. But it was very likely that we would have to do that rather more often than the average wizard.

_Author's Note: So there you have it. I'd like to hear more from you readers. Thanks to Bookworm and DopeyforDobby for their almost chapterly reviews._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	29. Revenge

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Revenge

It was the next day that Harry seemed to sicken again. I had still received no explanation for his discomfort last night but he had seemed to calm down since then so I had dismissed it, at least for the time we spent in class. We were coming back from potions our last class for the week, and I had actually congratulated Harry on his potion (Neville was not in potions and had met up with us in the entrance hall, having just come in from the green houses.) He had become inexplicably good at potions over the last months and even Severus had no disparaging words for him. Severus had started giving me harder work to do in class and that left Harry partner-less, but he seemed to fair well enough. We were all in a good mood having arrived at the end of an arduous week and while we all had work for the weekend we could waste a few hours on frivolity. That was until Harry opened the door to our quarters, clearly whatever had bothered him last night came back to him.

He banished his bag and turned away, "I need to go for a walk."

* * *

I had been avoiding Remus and Sirius since last night when I had done whatever I had done to Remus' memory and while I had more or less been able to ignore it for the course of the day it came back to me like a bucket of water inverted over my head. When I opened the door ahead of the herons I saw Remus and Sirius sitting side by side, absolutely happy in each other's company. I was elated to see that, I was happier seeing that than when I had first flown on a broom, I had no doubts that it would be my _patronus_ memory for the rest of my life. But I felt guilty too; guilty that I had altered Remus' mind and memory and guilty that I had not done so sooner, the twisting in my stomach made me feel ill. I decided to continue avoiding them until I had reconciled my actions to myself. I banished my books and bag and turned from the door.

"I need to go for a walk," I offered as an explanation.

I left leaving my friends a little bit confused and perhaps very concerned. They followed me though, each banishing their own belongings to their beds or desks or floor and trotting to catch up with me.

"Harry, wait," said Neville, "You remember…"

"I do…" I said, my voice harsher than I had intended. He was only reminding me of the last time I had ventured outside and walked through the line of tents. There was no way out of the castle (other than the secret passages) that did not force a person to walk between the white, turreted, temporary homes of the refugees. The last time I had done so, innocently wanting to see Hagrid and his newest monster for Care of Magical Creatures, I had been bombarded by hexes and clods of dirt hurtled under spell, a protest against me living amongst their vulnerable daughters and sons. I remembered and I hoped it would happen again, it was the kind of distraction I needed. Draco, Neville and Vox wouldn't be hurt of course since each carried the whirring shields, invisible, about their person. I wanted to feel attacked, I wanted to lash out, not at the people themselves, but to meet magic with magic and watch the explosions. I strode quickly through the castle, pushing against the border of the bubble of empty space that usually surrounded me wherever I went. Then we were out into the cold October air. This was where I normally decided that invisibility was a better state; today I did not, inviting whatever was thrown at me.

* * *

Harry was only walking but I had to jog to even keep at his heels. I had not ever seen him in so dangerous a mood; both weary and reckless. I finally pinpointed that disturbed look he had had last night. It was guilt and something else. With that discovery I guessed that he was feeling guilty about whatever he had done to Remus. I didn't see anything wrong. Remus and Sirius seemed very happy. Clearly Harry did though. He burst out of the Entrance Hall into the wan afternoon light of autumn. Then Harry slowed and meandered down the path through the tents and we followed wands already pulled as a defense that we really didn't need ourselves but for Harry. I felt foolish doing it; knowing Harry wouldn't need us to protect him, but I held it ready for all to see.

Harry was attacked as I was now sure was his intention. Spells flew from all sides, and he met them all, balls of light flashed about him. Each curse was met with his light and they exploded like fireworks in a ring around him. Projectiles were launched at him too but they met the same resistance and fared no better. We watched him from down the path a little ways. He was different, thrilled, excited like there could be nothing better in the world than being attacked on all sides and answering with magic, and perhaps for him there was nothing better. He moved gracefully; hands making the motions a wand might. Upon realizing that Harry was not merely passing through, the attack grew, no longer just a stab at him from anyone with enough hate to throw a spell but a full war against a mortal threat. I saw all levels of legal spells used, though I expected others of a more dubious nature had been used as well. He took it all, and laughed the harder. He did make his way slowly down the path until tents were pegged only on the one side. The sun was setting and he was in the growing shadow of the forest.

We had started talking amongst ourselves, Harry was in no danger and anyone foolish enough to cross him got what they deserved by our calculations. We had been ignored by the refugees. We slowed and stopped at the top of a downward slope, and as we were ignored so did we ignore. Until the spells stopped and the fiery crackle ceased. Then we looked up.

* * *

I had worked my way along the path and as I predicted not only was I attacked but as I responded the attack escalated. It was exhilarating, I knew none here could hurt me, Voldemort alone held that power, and so it had all the elements of a game. I do not know how long it took me to make it down the path but by the time I got to the point where the tents were only set on one side I was satisfied. I kept in the rhythm of defense though for some time, each motion natural and easy, until I could think above the commotion around me. The guilt came again and I pushed it back trying to think only of what had happened and not how I felt about it. I had been standing by the couch but then before I knew it I was holding Remus' hand, changing his memory. What had happened between? I didn't know. I hadn't chosen to do it; I had just done it, knowing only that he would be happier and that I could do it. I grasped onto the fact that I hadn't chosen; that was the key, I hadn't chosen. Whatever the consequences… It was my fault but not in the same way… I wasn't sure that really made it true or any better, I knew it didn't but when I let emotion flood back in the guilt was missing.

A line of cold ran across my throat from my ear to my chin. A hand curled in my hair and wrenched backwards. I was briefly shocked that I had been so distracted as to let someone sneak up on me. The other spells slowed and stopped when they realized someone stood with me. The person had not spoken yet, but as we stood the dagger dug against my skin.

"This is for my boy." The voice was a woman's at the very edge of grief and loathing; it was the voice of the woman that had slapped me on the first day of term. The dagger slid and I twisted away from her but landed on my knees, her hand was still in my hair. My throat was cut, blood dripping onto the ground and soaking the collar of my shirt. It pooled in my mouth. She kicked savagely at my ribs and I played helpless for the moment. When I laid sprawled on my back appearing at the edge of life she seemed appeased.

She knelt, "you deserve worse than I can serve." I had remained slightly awed by the cruelty she leveled at me and confused about how she had skewed the world so that blame and punishment not only landed on me but that she was fair, justified. The dagger rose in her fist. The magic that was already knitting the gash in my throat and undoing the bruising on my chest and ribs readied to seal a hole in my heart. It would not kill me, but for some reason my own curiosity seemed to demand to know how far she would go for her revenge. She had as good as killed any other wizard already. The blade plunged and I watched detached. With a flash of blonde hair and black school robes, Draco was there above me. He had caught the woman's wrists and Neville was wrestling the dagger from her grip. When he had the blade Draco threw her back; her balance lost, she fell onto her back. Neville and Draco had wands on her. She started to weep. I did not think it was because she had not succeeded, she thought she had; it was still grief for her son and in it was the little glee that she had had her revenge. I sat up, touched a hand to my throat, my fingers came away with a coating of blood. I conjured a handkerchief and wiped it away leaving only the pale ridge of an old scar.

Ministry employees were flocking into the area and when I looked towards the castle, I saw the headmaster running down the path followed by McGonagall and Snape. They were distinguished only by their gait, McGonagall, a stiff stride with her walking cane, and Snape, his gliding stride making him seem a child next to the elder two. I was going to keep the incident from Remus and Sirius if I could, unlikely, but I wanted to; I knew I made them sick with worry already. The law enforcement agents handcuffed the woman and tried to do the same to me.

"You know quite well that the attempt is futile." They backed away. "I won't press charges against anyone who attacked me tonight, I'm sure that will make your jobs much easier, except this lady here."

I looked at her for the first time since I had sat up. Her jaw was slack and her eyes never left me. She was terrified. "You're dead," she stuttered over and over.

Dumbledore and Snape caught up to me. Snape, with a more caring hand then I expected, inspected me. He found the scar. Dumbledore was standing waiting, though for what I didn't know.

"You're dead," she continued, "I cut your throat."

"I assure you Madame, Mr. Potter is not dead," Snape said coldly. Dumbledore was speaking to a Ministry official.

McGonagall joined us, "What on earth did you do? The whole of the castle is in uproar."

The lady was taken away with an auror.

When they had gone the other Herons joined our circle. I gave a very brief description of what had happened; barely more than a subject and a verb.

Then I was released from their scrutiny. It was disconcerting; but then they had watched the incident, perhaps they understood.

* * *

I watched as the students walked back towards the castle, two of them were not students but I considered them such still. Harry's group had caused havoc and despite being cold to anyone outside their group they were each admirable and I had grown fond of them. Snape was frowning beside me, I knew it was worry over his godson and I thought a little worry for Harry whether that was selfish or not I didn't know. I think Snape knew Harry was his only way to salvation. Voldemort was cruel, spying was a life Snape might not survive much longer and Dumbledore could only extend his protection so far but Harry could protect him against anyone, so long as he lived. I wonder if Dumbledore knew he was going to lose his best spy soon… I expected he did, he always did.

"Mr. Potter is stronger than we have believed," Albus said in preface. He then showed me a stack of photos. It was an interesting new technique developed, I suspected, after something Harry had done. If it was close to an incident memories could be copied into a photographic form. Protests similar to those against the use of pensieves had been brought forth but as long as the photographs were made quickly it seemed that they were free of emotional tampering. I looked at the first one and nearly choked. Harry was supine a wide red gash laid open his throat. His breath was regular and his eyes bright, bored and curious. The next was of Draco and Neville disarming the woman. I flipped past it to the last one. Harry was sitting in this one, his left hand touching the blood at his throat but it was obvious even in the photo that it was only blood and no mortal gash.

"Albus, that gash should have killed him. It was deep and long… would have cut everything."

"The scar shows the same. It's characteristic of a deep wound, a slice not a puncture, but deadly all the same," put in Snape.

"I know, Minerva, this morning I would not have thought it possible. He is extremely dangerous." His voice faded.

"The paper will have those by tomorrow. If the public is not already terrified of him they should be by tomorrow. Voldemort could not survive such a wound without immediate aid. They will be scared of him, from these photos and that foolish display of magic with these refugees. They will demand…"

"That he is detained, controlled? They will, and they will have more luck holding smoke in their hands. Come there is nothing more we can do here, standing in the dark."


	30. The Girl and the Mongoose

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty: The Girl and the Mongoose

It was eventful watching the news unfold over the next few days. It took a few days for it to come out because the ministry actually managed to hold the pictures for two days after the incident but then they were leaked to the Prophet. Harry's fight with the refugees had brought up more of the same sentiments that everything else had. Those pictures however had caused near riot. I think people started to fear that Harry really could be a power outside of the Ministry's control and they wanted the ministry to do something about it. Most everything said though was vague. The rumor that Harry Potter was in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took flight and gained much support. The theory went that they had completed some sort of Dark Blood Magic that made them so powerful. As I read through the papers, mostly habit, I noticed that no one mentioned Half-Blood Curse. I would have at the very least expected some speculation but it was as if they had forgotten that month's worth of stories. Harry ignored it all; in fact it was as if that night had never happened except he fingered the scar occasionally, as if it were a reminder. Remus and Sirius had been distraught and it had taken nearly an hour to reassure them that he was alright. Near the end he had mentioned that Snape had checked him and that had set off a new slew of worries at least as far as Sirius was concerned. The week started off quietly compared to the flurry of reactions over the weekend.

* * *

Herbology was interesting. Professor Sprout was not precisely nervous about me being in her greenhouses after Friday night but she did tend to avoid our workstation, as did everyone else in the class.

In the first ten minutes of the lesson Professor Sprout was interrupted by a girl our age entering the greenhouse. She gave the professor a brief explanation and a note and then wandered down the aisle. She passed a few open spaces and when she got to our table she stopped. "Is this seat taken?"

Normally there were four to a table but no one would fill the last seat even though it caused an extra workspace to be set up. Normally, no professor would allow it.

"Yes, feel free."

"Thank you."

Professor Sprout started talking again and the girl got out a stack of parchment and started taking notes. Today was a practical lesson and the lecture was brief. We were harvesting teeth from the vicious and poisonous Carabello plants. Each table had one that sat like a miniature thundercloud. They were a tangle of wispy and extremely poisonous vines that quested around the center of the plant. It was carnivorous, eating birds, insects, or really anything that it could capture. Then it fed the center bulb that had several gaps lined with hard spade shaped teeth. Professor Sprout was explaining the technique and most of the class was eyeing the plant warily. Eventually, when everyone had to be thinking, 'why are we doing this?' Sprout explained that the teeth were impervious to most magic including summoning and when ground up could be dusted over clothes as protection. It was expensive stuff because the teeth could only be harvested once a year when the flowers turned purple. That meant the next set of teeth was ready to grow in. Draco rolled his eyes at me. He and Neville had formed a working partnership and I think he really hated this part of herbology even if it did supply his potions. Sprout had granted Neville half a greenhouse for his private use and furnished him with seedlings and cuttings and already Neville had supplied Draco with quality potions ingredients. Draco almost always had something brewing now; simmering away in his room (the room of requirement thankfully vented away the noxious fumes.)

Sprout finished speaking turning them loose after reminding them to drink the antidote before attempting to harvest the teeth.

"I'm sorry," said the girl, "I didn't introduce myself when I sat down, I didn't want to interrupt more than necessary. I'm Tesla Smith."

We gave our names and shook her hand. I had to wonder why she had sat with us; there were three other open seats.

The others started gloving up; she drank the antidote like taking a shot of firewhiskey, clearly intending to go first.

"So where'd you go to school before this?" asked Neville of Tesla.

"I was more or less home-schooled, had some tutors and such. I've wanted to go here my whole life but my parents didn't think it was safe and until Friday night my mother," she paused as she put the hood on and made a hole in the wispy vines, "has always held something over my head keeping me from doing as I pleased."

I made the connection quickly when she looked pointedly at me. "Don't worry about it; our actions are not our parents. Other people tend to forget that around here."

"They do forget. I was the odd child anyway."

"My condolences about your brother."

"Thank you for not apologizing," her voice was sharp from fighting with the plant. "He was a prick and a fool. I won't say he deserved death but it was his own fault."

The plant shuddered slightly and Tesla immerged with no less than ten teeth on a string. She smiled prideful. I saw Neville look at her a little bit in awe.

"I've done this before." I wasn't sure she had seen Neville's look but it did seem to be directed at him. She placed the teeth in the bucket. "Don't do them one at a time, wrap them all up and yank. Doesn't hurt the plant and you spend less time fighting the vines."

She gave the hood to Neville. He dove into the plant with a little more care than she had.

I fingered the scar absent-mindedly.

"Le Fey, did she do that to you?" The word 'she' had an ocean's worth of contempt in it.

I didn't answer directly. "It's nothing, I let her do it. I was curious…"

"Curious," Draco snorted.

Neville backed out of the grasp of the plant, shaking away the vines that trailed after the lost prey. He was grinning foolishly and had nearly two dozen of the teeth also tied to a string.

"You know if you really want to impress a girl you only upstage her a little, not take twice as much." Tesla made the comment off hand but it made Neville blush a Weasley red.

"That trick worked really well," muttered Neville.

Draco had his go at the plant and came out with a measly three.

He set the gloves and hood down on the table and dumped the teeth in the collection bucket. Tesla looked at me. I merely smiled, "do you want to go again?"

"It's your turn, I don't want to do it again, I'm only good at it because we had to do it every year at our house; any other day I'm a liability not an asset."

"Ok." The remaining teeth swirled out of the vines and landed in the bucket. The flowers on the plant turned a very innocent white.

Since we had completed the task Professor Sprout dismissed us, though her lips were thin when she looked at me, no doubt feeling that I had cheated the practical part of the lesson.

Tesla walked with us into the courtyard where we sat down for the extra time we had. Her bag bulged suddenly and fell over. She laughed gently and undid the buckles. An animal stuck its snout out from under the flap and then rushed out in a length of golden fur. It was a mongoose though I had to assume a magical variety. The creature bounced over to Tesla and climbed into her lap. I was still standing a few feet in front of her. The mongoose suddenly turned and looked at me, freezing. I did not think it was scared just curious. It leapt, caught my cloak, ran up to my shoulder, behind my neck and then arched its long neck out so that it could look at me with its nose touching mine. It weighed almost nothing; the golden hair seemed to be made of light and air rather than tangible matter. We stayed nose to nose for some time. If I had taken away anything from Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class it was to let the Creature make the first move. After about a minute of intense staring though the mongoose twisted back around and laid its head on top of mine, laying there like some strange scarf.

"I know many people say this about their pets: but he really never takes to people like that. He doesn't even do that with me and I raised him from the bottle. The only thing he really likes is magic. See?" She pulled out a wand and three colored balls of light danced around about a foot off the ground. The mongoose very nearly fell off me to chase after the magic balls. He was fast, catching and appearing to eat the little orbs in mere minutes of jumping down. After, he did go sit with Tesla though, instead of climbing back up to my shoulder.

"His name is Kenelm."

"He's very handsome," said Neville. He and Draco had been whispering to each other through the whole encounter.

"Where are you living, did they sort you into a house?"

She laughed again a little nervous. "They tried; this whole weekend has been a mess trying to sort everything out. I was taken into Dumbledore's office and he had me try on this hat."

"The Sorting Hat… yeah, everybody puts it on as a first year at the Welcome Feast, in front of everybody then they sit with the house whose name is called out. Rather embarrassing really."

"Well, I bet it sorted you at least, downright refused to put me in a house. It just kept saying 'not a lion, not a snake, not a badger, not a raven,' over and over until Dumbledore took it off my head. He said there were some guest rooms I could use since it would only be for the rest of the year anyway. I think he had a very long talk with the hat after I left."

"Hmm weird, I don't think that's ever happened to anybody. The hat is supposed to choose the best place for a student even if they have traits belonging to more than one house."

"Oh well, means I don't have to share with anybody. Also means I can't lose house points when I get into trouble and I will."

"I think you should meet the twins."

She looked at her watch; we had gotten out so early that class had still not been dismissed. "I've got transfiguration next."

"Same, Seventh year is so small now with everyone being pulled out that we all have the same class schedule. Except for defense, that's split in two, and charms."

Draco had gotten out a book and was reading, Neville was reading over some notes pointedly not looking at Tesla.

"Kenelm? Is he your familiar?" Not a lot of students actually had familiars yet, just pets. Familiars made the choice not the person and they only chose those who were magically mature but the mongoose seemed like the kind of creature that would bond to a witch early.

"No, but close, his sister is. She's back in my rooms. Kenelm gets bored and likes to go outside with me. His sister's name is Artemis, he wouldn't answer to Apollo, it would have been fitting, but he wouldn't." She sighed, mouth twisted to a wry grin.

* * *

I watched Harry and Tesla while appearing to reread my notes for the next class. It had been a strange introduction to her in herbology and despite what we knew about her family Harry had lowered every visible defense. Harry would accuse me of being one of those people who transposed traits across generations but I felt I had to be a little suspicious, her mother had killed Harry after all, and she was alluringly beautiful. The kind of beauty the lady of the lake was supposed to have. I had to admit to myself that I was attracted to her, she was funny and sweet and something like being shy but bolder. I replayed when she had sat down with us, demurely asking if the seat was open, if she could sit. Then she had switched to a teasing tone with all of us and I had to wonder at it. Harry sat down, and I gave up on paranoia, if Harry had sat down next to her instead of standing in his cold impersonal way she could not be bad. Harry was uncannily good at judging people. I mean he had instantly called truce with Draco the moment he had detected Draco's change of heart. Harry might not have known but the trend was easy enough to follow. Tesla may have only been the second obvious case but even the small interactions among his peers one could tell who he trusted, or at least who he did not distrust. My focus switched innocently over to Tesla. She was very pretty and I felt myself blushing. Draco jabbed me in the ribs with his elbow.

"What?" I hissed.

"Just ask her out, you're being an embarrassment, blushing like that. You're lucky class hasn't been dismissed because as soon as it is the whole school will know: Neville is in love with the new girl."

"We only just met her."

"Fine, two galleons that you chicken out on asking her to the Halloween Hogsmeade visit."

I knew the jibe for what it was, just a gentle tease and I knew I was blushing and probably deserved it. "You're on." I was mortified that I had accepted the wager.

Draco just smiled cruelly.

"You don't have to be so gleeful about it."

The rustling voiced sound that only a student body on the move can make started to echo in the courtyard. I looked at my watch as did the others. I shoved my notes in my bag and stood, Draco was no slower. Tesla, now standing, was having trouble convincing Kenelm to get back into her bag.

"He normally likes it." She protested. The mongoose had jumped to Harry's shoulder and looked like he was going to stay there. Harry was laughing. He stood up and the mongoose swung his tail to keep balance. It was reassuring to see Harry so lighthearted; it reminded me so much of when we were younger. It seemed like he didn't laugh often enough and when he did it was always so cynical. The nostalgia was almost painful. I hoped we could all laugh like that again at the end of this.

"It's fine, he can stay there if he wants, McGonagall must be used to me being distracting by now."

"You'll be sorry offering that, he weighs near two stones, you'll be sore the rest of your life. Kenelm, you will be coming back with me later." She scolded Kenelm a little bit more and apologized to Harry. "I shouldn't have brought him out this first day. Oh well, I learned that lesson."

* * *

Kenelm slept on my shoulders through Transfiguration and lunch without moving once. We had what was called a free period after the meal but Neville, Draco and now Tesla spent it slaving in the library. Tesla had an oddly expansive albeit fragmented knowledge. It was different from Hermione who was an encyclopedia; Tesla knew the practical stuff and the obscure stuff and almost none of the theory. They worked away until dinner time, Vox joining us sometime during the afternoon. Neville still had a light blush but I don't think anyone else would have noticed. Maybe Vox did, he grinned toothily upon studying him. We went to dinner and Tesla met Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna and a few others though she was stiff during the meal. Kenelm was not. He walked all over the table and was not discriminating from whom he stole food. He did return with Tesla to her room when we parted ways for the evening.

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed meeting Tesla and Kenelm. Tesla is named after Nikola Tesla due to her father's obsession with the inventor, and Kenelm means bold defender or bold helm. As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I would particularly like to hear what you thought of the two of them._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	31. Tesla

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-One: Tesla

After what my mother had done I thought it would be extremely uncomfortable even sitting in the same class as Harry Potter but it was as if I was no relation to that unbalanced woman. Except for what the sorting hat had told me I would have gladly sat with anyone else, but it had said something cryptic and insisted I at least talk to the Boy-Who-Lived. It had said that I should 'fly with the herons and lay siege to the world, for that is the only way you can live as you wish.' I didn't know what it meant only that before Dumbledore had yanked the hat off my head the hat had said in its whispering way, 'speak to Harry Potter.'

I found it irritating to be told what to do by a hat but my curiosity was piqued. So I had sat with them in Herbology, Monday morning. Harry Potter held a paradoxical state, he was both warm and welcoming and cold. The other two, Neville and Draco were distant and took cues off of Harry or so it seemed. It wasn't until I let Kenelm out of my bag that my friendship with them was sealed. Kenelm loved Harry instantly, and I was strangely not jealous that my pet had decided that he wanted a new master. When I was back in my room that night, with Kenelm who had come back with me, I scribbled down character sketches of the four I had met. It was a weird habit that had grown from a suggestion my dad had made. I loved my father, he and mother had separated and mother being magical had won our custody in the magical courts. Dad was a squib and had left the magical world to go to a muggle university when he was young. He had changed his name to Smith so as not to disgrace his parents. I had never been told where he and mother had met but they had been in love when I was young. I didn't know what had changed when I was eight but it had. I insisted on seeing him though every chance I got. My brother was like my mum; foolish was the only word that described them.

I set about the brief task and discovered for the first time that I could not do it for the four; they were contradictions and masks, I knew that. I scratched out everything I had written.

I moved sullenly on to homework. I did not have as much as I had dreaded but I was expected to know current topics.

* * *

We had known Tesla for about a week, and while she joined us for meals and sat with us in classes she kept her solitude in the evenings. Neville still had not asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him and I needled him about it every chance I got, mainly because I had never seen Neville so flustered about a girl before. I had seen Harry make moon eyes at Cho during fourth year and fifth, though that had not lasted long.

Neville did ask her on Wednesday much to my shock. I handed over the two galleons with only the act of unwillingness. Now as long as he didn't back out of it… Tesla became inexcusably shy around him and Neville was inexcusably shy around her, which did lead to some amusement to those watching, especially when they sat next to each other during dinner that night. Every time they brushed arms or elbows or reached for the same roll they blushed; Neville turned that bright red, Tesla at least still looked pretty when she did. Harry was very nearly ignorant of the interaction across from him. Hedwig and flown in and she and Kenelm were having some sort of stand-off across Harry's plate. Every time Harry even tried to comfort Hedwig she beat her wings, fluffed her feathers, and snapped her beak at him.

"Harry, I had no idea owls could be so jealous," Vox put in with a calculatedly mild tone.

Harry directed a glare at him before picking up a piece of meat and offering it to Hedwig and shoving Kenelm off the table.

"See? I still love you," Harry muttered to his owl.

The word 'love' got reactions across the table from Neville and Tesla. All in all it made dinner very entertaining.

* * *

Hedwig nibbled my fingers after the offering of meat and the disappearance of the mongoose. I gave her a letter to take to the twins. It was full of ideas that I hoped would have interesting implications in the minds of Fred and George. I was going to visit them while the others were off in pairs about Hogsmeade. The shields were good enough that I didn't feel the need to fret about them.

Draco was wearing a smirk and even Vox had the edge of a smile on his normally neutral face. I guessed their amusement was at Neville's expense; I felt sorry for him, a little. I had tried to forget all my fumbling while I was around Cho. It didn't matter now, she had only gone out with me because of Cedric and I had discovered I had only really admired her skill at Quidditch. She and her family had moved to America this last summer after she had graduated.

I went back to reading the paper; there was news of more attacks and continued coverage of the trial of Mrs. Smith, though that had been set on page 5 and was not given much interest. Despite the fact that she had cut my throat, the result of that night was an increase of hate and fear directed at me. It was strange remembering that night. I had felt no pain and had I wished I could have made the knife a feather or a pebble, but I had felt this overwhelming curiosity. I felt I had to understand her and her actions. I still did not.

Kenelm crawled into my lap and I folded the paper. The mongoose was an odd creature; he had golden fur and black eyes, he was intelligent, curious, and after two weeks he had abandoned Tesla for me. I could not fathom why I was so special to him, and because he had refused to go back with Tesla one night she had given him to me. I felt guilty about that, though Tesla did not seem upset in the least. Before we separated at the stairs, to head to our respective beds, she had warned me that he was more trouble than he was worth. I did not find that to be the case. Kenelm stayed close to me and while he explored every inch of the room of requirement, nothing was out of place.

_Author's Note: Well this is a bit of a filler chapter but it's late and I'm far too tired to do more. Besides I think I've deprived you of an update for long enough._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	32. Research Efforts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Two: Research Efforts

I had a theory about Kenelm. It tied in very closely to the other theories Draco had suggested about Harry and magic. The first day the mongoose had been very interested in Harry and in the magic orbs that Tesla conjured. Tesla had said he liked magic, and by my theory Harry had a lot of magic about him. It made sense that Kenelm could sense something like that. Many ordinary animals had magical members in their species, much like humans, and while they did not control magic they seemed to know what it was. Few people had investigated it, and most pure-bloods were not very happy about conclusions that had been presented. Therefore the books had been very difficult to find. But I had found them at Hogwarts and with permission from Professor Hagrid, though I was not his student, I had been able to get access to the restricted section in the library. I wasn't exactly sure why but Hogwarts was reluctant to allow outsiders in the library and Madame Pince especially so. I had wooed her though with the gentle quiet respect I had shown the library and its books. I knew the students were oft too hurried to do either; they needed the information as fast as possible and took no extra care. So while I would usually be excluded I had been able to bypass those rules to carry on my own research. My efforts had found little reward but it kept me from wandering the halls in a witless manner as I had before I had met Hagrid.

Hagrid had been extremely kind to me despite my vampirism. Even the other Herons, Remus, and Sirius had had their initial misgivings. Well, maybe not Harry, I thought, he treated everyone as equally threatening and inconsequential, and that was something else, like he saw my vampirism the same as he saw a sword or a wand, as a weapon. Hagrid had been different; he had welcomed me because of what I was, like I was worth more, and in a good way. Since then I had often visited the half-giant when the others were locked behind classroom doors for the day.

It was Thursday, just before lunch and I, having given up my research in the library, sauntered down to visit him. I did not find him in his hut but in the field around an outcropping of the forest, out of sight of the tented refugees. He had about a dozen thestrals nosing in for a bite of the raw meat he had chopped in a bucket. The smell of blood was heady but it was animal and less appealing. Besides I had already eaten this morning. I approached gently, knowing the beasts both as predators and the easily spooked horses their skeletons resembled. A younger one frolicked out from behind its mother and cantered up to me, bold, though the younger ones usually were.

"Well hello, Vox," said Hagrid, his voice loud enough to carry but toned soft, "the others stuck in classes?"

"Yes, all this morning and all this afternoon, 'til dinner time unless Snape relents." I patted the thestral on the forehead and scratched its wiry mane.

"Bah, you know he won't. Don't matter, I'm glad you came down to see me."

"Yes, the library starts to close in on one after a while. Fresh air is better even in the wet," I said.

"Quite, quite,"

I started to think there was something he wanted to ask. "Is there something you wanted to discuss?"

"What? No, no," he blustered and covered it by throwing out some pieces to the thestrals.

"I imagine you saw the paper… Harry's alright you know, not a thing wrong with him." The last was a lie.

"Yeah, not that he'll let you see." His voice dropped to under his breath but he forgot my finer hearing even standing two horse-lengths from him. "He is amazing though, isn't he? Reminds me o' when I first met him…"

I wavered on commenting on that, but decided not to, instead cutting in with: "I had a question: a little more about the research I was telling you about. I'm not sure how to phrase it, but how do magical animals be what they are? That's not exactly right though. I was thinking, and the research I've read while vague does seem to point in this direction but it seems that some animals are so improbable that they have to have magic just to keep up with themselves. I mean Wizards aren't all that special, they're just humans that can sense and use magic in a limited way; lots of animals are like that. But it seems to me that creatures like thestrals and hippogriffs and dragons, can't exist without a little bit of magic. Have you read anything like this?" I still didn't think I had explained it all that well, but it seemed like Hagrid knew.

"Yeah, I think I have it. It's an old manuscript that Dumbledore gave to me… don't know why he did, it should be in the library… but yeah, I just remember a passage about why muggles could only ever see magical creatures at a distance, couldn't ever catch them and display them, y'know?" I nodded. "Cause the creature would become regular in the absence of magic."

"That's interesting, Hagrid, I would very much like to see this essay."

"Yeah, I'll see if I can't find it for ya."

"Thank you."

We were quiet for a long time, thinking.

_Author's Note: Kind of short again but this needed to be separate I think._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	33. Halloween in Hogsmeade

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Three: Halloween in Hogsmeade

We all met in the Entrance Hall on Halloween, which had fallen on a Saturday this year. Fifth years and up had been granted a Hogsmeade weekend and the younger years were sore about it, especially the third years that had only just been eligible this year and were now not allowed due to the silly threat of Voldemort. We already seemed to be paired off. Ginny and Luna, Draco and Vox, and Ron and Hermione stood a little separated from each of the other couples though still in a close circle. Neville and Harry were just standing waiting, but their posture seemed to bother the observant part of me; I didn't ponder on it. I joined the circle, Harry somehow the focal point though we were all evenly spaced. I greeted Neville, shyly, and he returned, just as shy I was pleased to note, but after I turned my attention to Harry. He was so… something, I wanted to say strange but it was something bigger, like unexpected but closer to shocking. None of those were quite right either. I had grown up hearing about the Boy-Who-Lived, like he was a hero in some epic story; he was a hero even as a babe, and then he had been demonized, by the media and then by my mother. Yet he was standing here like any other school boy waiting to be let off the grounds for a day of freedom. That was it though; the thing everyone seemed to miss, or forget. He by himself was no contradiction. It was every other person around him that acted as if he was something he was not.

I was afraid that I was eyeing Harry in a way that was obvious to everyone else, so I deliberately turned to Neville and refused to glance the other way. Neville was sweet, and I liked him but I was afraid that I might fall in love with Harry like I was under the influence of a love potion.

It was strange for me to suddenly have a group of friends like this. Growing up how I did, I had interacted with few people my age since those of equal aristocracy had affiliations that were not approved of in my mother's house. And now I had ten that I had the feeling would jump in front of any curse to save me. I felt a little selfish, because I wasn't sure I would do the same for them, but then maybe I would. I glanced at Harry, and knew that I would do it for him though I felt it like a compulsion. I forced myself to stop thinking about it.

I noticed Neville was looking deferentially at Harry, not a servile look just waiting to follow. Draco and Vox had similar patient postures. It seemed Harry had the unwavering support of at least these three. I guess he had me too.

Filch, the grumpy caretaker, opened the Entrance Hall doors out onto a day so grey and windy it hurt the eyes. The wind came whirling in and girls clutched at their cloaks though the boys let theirs flap in what could only be a stupid show of manliness.

We left behind the rush of the other students. Ginny and Luna walked the fastest down the path, darting around students that were walking too slowly for them. Ron and Hermione had that sweetheart saunter, but it was still faster than the rest of us. Draco and Vox started a technical conversation about something but they were several paces ahead. Harry walked not far behind them, with Neville and me staying a little behind, and for being surrounded by friends Harry looked as if he walked alone. In the beginning I carefully schooled myself to not watch Harry too closely; but after awhile I realized Neville's gaze did not leave him. We tried talking to each other and it only happened in fits. When we were silent and each of us was searching desperately for another topic I did study Harry.

Harry seemed like a wraith on the grey day. He was narrow and for that looked tall though I knew he was only just taller than I. His stride was more like a glide then a walk and his posture was proud, relaxed. He kept his hands in the deep pockets of his robe but to me it seemed he was ready to attack or defend on the next step. More than anything he seemed ready. Suddenly I thought Harry would look just right if he had wings, black, feathered, and giant; the image persisted until I shut it out.

We had been quiet again for some time and the silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"You've not ever been to Hogsmeade, have you?" he asked. I had mentioned it last night at dinner but I was happy to grasp onto any topic.

"No, I haven't." I turned my scrutiny onto Neville. He glanced at me and then turned his eyes forward, watching Harry, I thought.

"It's great, lots of funny stories. We should go up to the shrieking shack, maybe, though we should probably get butterbeers to warm up first. The Honeydukes shop is the original one and its where all the new candies are tested on the masses, what with the student body just down the road."

"Sounds nice, how did the shrieking shack get its name?" I asked just to keep one of us talking.

"that's a story to listen to while you're standing in front of it."

"It's not boring old ghosts is it? We had so many of those in my old house that I don't much care for them anymore."

"Eeerrrr, no it's not ghosts." I realized my tone had been a little disparaging.

"Sorry, didn't mean to sound bitter, it's just remembering that house and the people in it makes me feel…"

"Bitter?" he supplied.

"Yes I was looking for a different word but that one will do."

"You want to talk about it?"

I paused. The question was direct and that unbalanced me a little but his voice was caring enough. I answered him and with details I did not normally share. Maybe I did it because my mom was gone now, with no control over me, maybe because I was on my own now or maybe it was that I felt exactly like them. I had only known them for two weeks and wouldn't people say that wasn't long enough? It was for me.

* * *

Tesla talked for the rest of the walk into town about her family and the house she grew up in. I couldn't imagine not going away to school, as much as I loved my grandmother, I think I would have gone mad if I had been stuck with her until I was seventeen. I made a silent wish that she was still safe. I knew she was a shrewd witch, she had always known things about me that I had wanted to keep secret, but lots of shrewd wizards had died in this war. I kept my eyes on Tesla but glanced occasionally towards Harry. He seemed to be the only person in the whole school walking alone. All of us had coupled up, as friends, sweethearts, or shy first-dates, except for him. I didn't think it bothered him, I think I knew it didn't bother him. He'd rationalize that we were safer the farther away from him we were. I wasn't going to give up my position as friend to him though.

We stepped onto the main street that ran through Hogsmeade. I remembered with a shudder the fight we had had here on the cobblestones last year. I peered at Harry. He made no sign that he remembered the day, or maybe he had dismissed its significance. We walked as a group to the bend in the street and the door to the Three Broomsticks. Ron and Hermione had turned down the street I knew the tearoom was on. I had no intention of showing Tesla that place, though I didn't think she would be the kind to enjoy that atmosphere. We had lost Ginny and Luna ages ago.

"If we're going our separate ways why don't we meet back here at two?" suggested Draco.

Harry shrugged he was looking up at the apex of the roof. Was he thinking about the raven?

"Sure, that's plenty of time to go up to the shrieking shack."

"If you aren't back we're all going to come up there and find you so don't go losing track of time." Draco threatened.

Tesla blushed, I didn't know why. "No, we'll be back." She said quickly.

We parted ways or rather the other three left. Harry walked up the street the slight curve taking him out of sight. Draco and Vox went down an alleyway to I know not where.

"What would you like to see first?"

"Um, Honeydukes sounds pretty interesting, but I don't really care."

"Ok," we followed Harry's path up the street. We did not spend long in the candy shop and ended up walking up the road and then back down and towards the shrieking shack. I told her the abbreviated story and did not say that it was Remus who had used it, just a werewolf. Time grew short and it was only getting colder, I suspected we were going to get more snow.

* * *

I turned up the street and walked past the older more established shops, passing the large grey stone fronts with small paned windows, towards Fred and George's apartment. Their shop was still not open, the interior dark with the shadows of shelves that had not been dusted for some time, and I had a feeling my letters had contributed to that. I walked up the warped wooden stairs and opened the door (it was not locked for me of course.) The twins were expecting me and their greeting was a bucket of frog entrails overturned above me. I let it fall but directed it into a stream behind my back and brought it before me in seven multicolored balls. They juggled between my hands and then for the finale I made each explode into flowers or stars until I had just two left. Those I threw at the twins and each boy ended with egg dripping down into his collar.

"Gred, make a note not to booby-trap the door when we are expecting Harry…"

"Note taken, starred and triple underlined." George handed his twin a towel, but they were both laughing. I looked around their small space; it was much the same as last time, cluttered but in such a way as to suggest order. I knew the real mess was downstairs in their workroom, I imagined that you had to summon anything you did not want to spend hours looking for.

"Tea, Harry?"

"Always, thank you." I took a seat at the round table and so did George while Fred waved his wand in the direction of the kitchen. A teapot floated out followed by the service and three cups reminding me of ducklings trailing their mother. "You know, I'm not sure how effective an overturned bucket of frog entrails is going to be…"

"That's 'cause you didn't let the spell get to the good part." The teapot served and Fred took the last chair. "It's already been tested; that poor ministry man he had no idea what was happening to him. He was after the shields, of course. I told you it wouldn't stay with them; I knew they would want it. They actually had a warrant for it, but we'd already destroyed the plans and sketches and what not."

"It's still up in our heads but the ministry has never given warrants to search the mind."

The teacups settled before the drinkers. George pulled out a flask and splashed some of the contained liquid into his cup; Fred unburdened him of the flask and then tilted it towards me in offering. I shrugged and held my cup out to him. There was a wiggle under my cloak in the satchel I had rigged for the purpose of carrying the mongoose. Kenelm wormed out onto the table and stuck his nose into Fred's cup; Fred snatched it out of his reach.

"Sorry, this is Kenelm."

"You want to tell us where your familiar came from?"

"What?"

"Kenelm? He is your familiar, is he not?"

"Kenelm is not my familiar, though he does stay very close. Tesla gave him to me, not that she had much choice when he left her for me." I again felt a little guilty and my words sounded cold. Then I realized I had not told the twins who she was though she reminded me of the two, even if she had not caused the same mayhem within the castle walls. I told them briefly about her and how we had met.

"We saw the paper about that night two weeks ago…" I had only told them her last name but it was too much to hope that they had not made the connection. Fred reached out and folded down one of the points of my collar, I shocked myself by letting him do so, and saw the scar. The wizarding world was too small for people with the same last name to not be related somehow.

"hmmm, I stopped reading it sometime last week."

"Mrs. Smith's trial was yesterday…"

"She got off, Harry, no charges…"

"Hmmm," I said again. I hadn't known that. I think Draco must have; he had folded the paper up rather business-like this morning at the breakfast table. "I'm not sure I care. I'm pretty sure she was scared enough that she won't do anything else. She was only attacking me anyway, not anybody else." I did wonder briefly what that meant for Tesla, hopefully she was in her majority and could not be coerced back to the previous status quo.

They shared a glance; Fred absentmindedly reached out and stroked Kenelm under his chin.

I sipped the tea; the liquid was a sweet liqueur that was close to tasting like honey, though I suspected, like most wizard's brew, it came from somewhere a little stranger.

"Those were some interesting suggestions…"

"In your letters…"

A crate that looked as if it had once held fireworks (it was marred with more than one charcoal streak) floated to the table.

"We started with the ones that we thought we could do ourselves…"

"The pre-loaded wands sounded stellar," Fred pulled out three plain sticks.

"They still have to be proper wands with magical cores but it can be very tiny amounts…"

"We still don't know if they will hold for long periods of time, so far so good…

"But it's only been a few days."

"That's great, I had the most hope for them, hoped that little children could have a defense in an attack."

Fred twirled the stick, "yes, they're damned simple to make."

"The question of invisibility was the next thing I had hopes for; invisibility cloaks are so rare and useless once they are summoned off you."

"Unfortunately we couldn't get past placing invisibility into something so it can still be summoned."

"Yes that would make them as useless as cloaks."

"And even resistance wears off too quickly."

I sighed and Kenelm crossed the table, curled into my lap and promptly went to sleep. My eyes wandered around the room. Boxes stacked haphazardly in one corner were plastered with neon stickers. Puking pasties read one. I remembered fondly the evenings in the common room during that year when on occasion a first year would faint or vomit and there behind them would be Fred or George with a clipboard. It had driven Hermione bonkers. "What if there was nothing left to summon, make it a candy. Once it's eaten the magic is no longer associated."

That started a quick glance and a few words spoken.

"Dismissed,"

"Dosage,"

"I know,"

"Right,"

Then to me, "Well, it's worth a go… we'd dismissed the idea for the short haul, mostly, because it's much more difficult than making treats that make you sick and then cure you."

"We'll will try it."

We talked a little bit more but it turned slowly to silence and sipping tea. Fred refilled my cup adding a dash of the liqueur to it as well.

* * *

In the dim light of our flat Harry did not look so ill as I remembered but I knew the deception. He was always that paradox of vibrant will and meekness, of enthusiasm and despondency. He sighed again, making the count since he stepped in the door over two dozen.

"You alright, Harry?" I asked

"Just fine," he stroked the mongoose's golden fur, his focus there and not at me.

"Liar," said George, it was half tease and half accusation.

"We just care, Harry, you said things last time that teenagers should not have to worry about," my voice was less harsh than George's had been.

"Should not, but have to," Harry said, stubbornly.

I sighed myself. He was right, to survive we had to.

"It would break me," his mutter was pitched so low I didn't think I had heard the words correctly.

"What would?" I asked gently but I felt like I was trying to pry gnomes out of the hard garden soil.

"If someone I loved died." He looked shocked that he had said it aloud and glanced accusingly at his cup.

I swallowed, noticing my twin looked a little guilty about the liqueur, even though I was the one who had poured it for him. It was probably the first Harry had ever had and it was potent even by wizard standards. It had loosened his tightly held self control a little but now he would freeze again and refuse any overtures to talk about it.

I cleared my throat, the air feeling very thick and uncomfortable. I knew he wanted to hold everyone as far away from him as possible, to be out of the way, and to gather them close so as to protect them.

"I'm not going to talk about this anymore," he announced and we had to drop the subject because he would not answer. We had a lengthy war of stubbornness until we had finished all the tea in the pot. Then as if nothing had happened he asked "what of the other projects?"

* * *

With that the tension receded and we spent until just before two discussing the creation of the objects. I still felt uneasy, a little, but Harry seemed to have completely forgotten the matter. I looked carefully at Fred. Fred's ears were tinged a little red and he looked cross though I doubted anyone else could tell, his face was held so carefully still. After Harry had left last time Fred had not been himself and he refused to snap out of it until I forced a confession. "I really care about him," he had said, "really care, and I'm frustrated because he is both at the same time utterly selfish and completely selfless. I don't think he knows he's killing himself, and the rest of the time I think he hopes to." I should have expected it. I had seen Fred crush on a few people in our younger years but when Harry Potter had started at Hogwarts his attentions had been split, he liked Angelina certainly, who had been on the Quidditch team but he always specifically looked out for Harry, blocked bludgers during the games (almost tailing him like a personal shield) and when Harry was stuck in the castle during his third year Fred had been the one to suggest giving him the map. I had been for it once suggested, but he had thought of it. Harry had always inspired devotion in people and for the longest time I had thought that that was all; Fred's words made me think it was something different.

Harry stood, "I'm going down to the Three Broomsticks; would you like to join me?"

We accepted, not having been out of the apartment for a few days.

* * *

Fred and George tailed me to the Three Broomsticks. They stayed just half a step behind me and I knew they were having one of those silent conversations, one of shrugs, slight nods of the head, and glances that people who lived together seemed to be capable of. I pretended to not notice. The others were already there when we arrived in the pub; they had chosen one of the large tables since our number was already great with the addition of Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna, who had arrived sometime before. It was easy enough to squeeze in two extra chairs.

* * *

Harry pushed open the door of the pub with his usual careless flair, and just behind him were two twinned redheads that looked like Ron though shorter and with grins that summed only to mischief and trouble. I caught myself thinking Harry was handsome in the dim light, and stopped it though I found the thought of dating him harder to shake. I didn't know why, Neville was cute and sweet and interested in me and today had been wonderful, something my childhood isolation had not seen in copious amounts, but my eyes always betrayed me. Harry gracefully took a seat on the other side of Neville and the twins harassed their brother and sister and then sat across the circle from Harry, next to Draco. I took careful note of the drinks Madame Rosemerta handed out, butterbeers to the two underage, as well as Ron, Hermione, Neville and me. George, one of the twins as he was identified by Madame Rosemerta after he said something flirtatious to her, had something slightly stronger. The other twin, Fred, had something potent that came out with a blue sheen of fire over it. Draco and Vox had nothing, and Harry ordered only tea. After she had left to serve other patrons, Kenelm squirmed out of his satchel and onto the table for a brief inspection of the people sitting around it. He then returned to Harry when he discovered there was nothing more interesting going on. When we had all settled and warmed ourselves a little, conversation started, lines crossed the table as it became a clatter of talk. Harry was quiet, listening, as Draco and Vox discussed politics, the twins joked playfully with their siblings. The interplay was interesting. After Harry, Luna was the next quietest, adding only the very wacky statement when conversation ran close to whatever she was thinking. She spoke mainly to Ginny though. Ginny seemed very close to the twins, more than Ron, and it seemed she was very much interested in following their career path and joining them in their inventing. Those in my year held to a single conversation stubbornly. Draco and Vox's conversation of politics, that must have been running from the moment Neville and I joined them at the table, spilled over and eventually all of us were adding to arguments on one side or the other, including Luna though her comments were generally on the lines of conspiracy. They carefully steered around any events that involved Harry, including the acquittal of my mother. That event had shocked me, I knew the ministry felt threatened by Harry, but I had not expected them to release anyone who had committed such violence. I had already managed to scrape away what I needed to finish the year at Hogwarts and since I had gained privileges when my parents divorced, there shouldn't be much more than guilt she could do to me. I wondered if she would be allowed back into her social circles after having attempted to kill the Boy-Who-Lived. She'd probably be welcomed with open arms the way public opinion was swinging. I let that subject drop, feeling a frown spill over onto my face. I looked at Harry and glanced away, he was looking at me stroking Kenelm under the mongoose's chin. That was the first time I had caught him studying me and I found it to be both disconcerting and flattering. It seemed to be both a mix of the way Dumbledore had stared at me after the Sorting Hat had refused to sort me and the way Neville looked at me occasionally. As the scrutiny continued I started to fancy he might be interested in me the same as my curiosity made me interested in him. I abandoned that thought though it followed me like a spurned puppy. I looked at my cup until I felt he had looked away; I think I had started to blush. I started to study the other people at the table in reference to how they interacted with Harry. He seemed in his normal paradoxical way to be both the center of attention, as if everyone was running ideas past him and deliberately left out of the conversation. Ron, Ginny and Luna seemed to be the least affected by his presence, then Hermione who showed only a long-time friend's genuine concern. Vox also seemed independent of him though again I saw a little deference in an otherwise proud countenance. Draco was much the same though easy with it instead of looking like there was a debt waiting to be paid. I didn't honestly think that a debt was the only bond between Harry and the vampire but it did have more distance than the other ties. The strongest dynamics was between the twins, Neville and Harry. Neville had deeper ties to Harry than Draco and Vox, though I couldn't fathom why, they lived in the same quarters, they had shared a dorm for longer but that didn't seem to be the only thing to account for the bond; I guessed I didn't have all the information. The twin, George seemed the most like the adult amongst us, he was only two years older from what I understood but he seemed to take it upon himself to watch out for his siblings, his twin especially, and Harry. Fred seemed to be the more emotional of the two, not that George seemed like the kind to stay out of trouble, but Fred despite his joking seemed moody about something. My focus remained on him for sometime but that did not help me sort it out other than to deduce that it seemed also to involve Harry. It always seemed to come back to him no matter who I looked at: Hermione was worried, so was Ron, and Ginny if you looked closely, Draco and Vox both showed deference, Neville had some greater bond to him, a likeness I might say, George and Fred both wanted to protect him, and I thought Fred wanted something else, and me, who was interested in him… It left only Luna who seemed on the fringe of the group anyway. I gave up thinking about it. I didn't have enough information to figure it out, and the fire at my back was too warming to allow clear-headedness.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Dozens of wizards started apparating into the building and when I looked out the window I saw more. Many of them were in ministry robes, the various colors, grey and red for law enforcement and aurors, blue for judges, green-trimmed black for ministers, and purple-trimmed for others, as well as the variety of other hues that magical people seemed to prefer. They all ducked and rolled as soon as they appeared, like they were dodging spells. The patrons in the Three Broomsticks sat slack-jawed at the sudden interruption of their drinking. The newly arrived wizards straightened when they realized where they were. Then the alarms really started going off. An auror who had apparated just inside the door stood up.

"The ministry has been attacked and has fallen to the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It has been previously planned that in such an event all ministry officials are to retreat to the secondary headquarters at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said. It was clear that his speech was more for those that had apparated than the crowd they had just disturbed. We had all stood and moved around the table in a spontaneous yet coordinated-looking defensive maneuver. We had drawn wands, (knives in the case of Vox,) ready for whatever. I noted with disgust that the adults in the room had not been so swift in bringing up shields and only the students had the shimmering barriers raised before them. Neville and Fred created a wall before Harry, shoulder to shoulder. As we lowered our wands, Harry sagged and the nearest person, Draco, caught him. Harry looked sicker than I had ever seen him. I knew he held a mask hiding truth but the greenness showed through. Then he stood straight again, swallowed once, and then looked as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go back," he said, "Fred, George, you're welcome to come with us."

"Thanks Harry, our apartment is safe enough."

"You know where to find us."

They slipped out as the confusion continued.

Harry spoke again softly, "fret not, he is not coming here."

We left and the other students followed. I saw a certain trust that I did not normally see in the castle. These students were ready to look to Harry for the answer, almost the opposite of the fear within Hogwarts. Maybe it was the surety with which he held himself, but I felt something too, something more than mere confidence. I unwillingly thought about dating him again, and to cover I reached for Neville's hand. But I found his wand gripped in it and his other hand at Harry's elbow, not touching but ready if a step faltered. I folded my arms tucking my bare hands in to protect them from the wind that was gathering, wand still gripped in one hand. The clouds and the suddenly stirred wind made me think of snow, but I was starting to think of the more dreary sleet or hail. Snow was too happy for this time. Harry led us at an easy pace back towards the castle and as we tramped through the last streets of Hogsmeade I thought that we might have been joined by all of the Hogwarts students remaining in the village. That extra feeling was still there, reassuring and warm. We were silent, all the students were. I looked back at the crowd and saw wariness but not fright like I expected.

_Author's Note: So the reason this has taken awhile is, first it's long, and second I'm back in school so at least during the first few weeks you will have to forgive me for being slow because I have no idea how much reading will be required. Thirdly, there is no thirdly other than you should review because that would be nice and it might guilt me into editing the next chapter faster._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	34. Worry for a Spy

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Four: Worry for a Spy

When we arrived back the rest of the students from Hogsmeade in tow, the rest of the student body was already assembled in the Great Hall. We filed in. The tables had been banished to the edges of the room and everyone else stood by house and by year, roll was being called. Remus stood waiting for us, a giant black dog, Sirius' Animagus form, sitting at his hip; Remus was leaning on a cane as he sometimes did. His other hand rested on Sirius' head. Severus saw me, nodded; clearly only reassuring himself that his godson and potions apprentice was safe. I noticed McGonagall took quick stock of our little group as well, as the redheads and Granger filed into their respective years. Tesla remained next to us. I think no one really counted us amongst the houses anymore, and when Dumbledore asked if the students were present, Remus gave our count when the other heads of house reported the other students present or accounted for. I wondered briefly if we would get our own hourglass to count points in. The thought unfolded itself for awhile, musing on colors and mascot and whether they would let us play Quidditch with only enough for half a team, until Dumbledore spoke.

"First I would like to thank those students who had been enjoying Hogsmeade for returning so swiftly. Two points to each of you for your respective houses for being sensible." Dumbledore looked directly at Harry, who was once again not really paying attention, or at least that was how he looked. I didn't believe the distracted look directed at the ceiling and neither did Dumbledore. His words put the image of our own hourglass in my head; it was a silly thought, since we had really broken the code of the houses. That was where we had first offended, when Harry had sat with me at my table instead of his own; it was only just over a year, but I didn't remember a time before, it felt so long ago.

Dumbledore continued, "The reports are true. The Ministry of Magic has indeed been attacked and overwhelmed. However, only the building stands in the hands of the enemy. The Minister and the Wizengamot had anticipated and already moved operations to here, knowing that a strike against the Ministry was inevitable. Do not be shocked if you go back to your rooms and find that your wizarding radio stations seem to be only sharing stories of woe and despair. This is only a tactic of Voldemort," there was the customary cringe around the students and faculty, not Severus, and McGonagall only frowned but the others all hunched their shoulders. Dumbledore's manner changed a little, more scolding, "learn to speak his name; fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Say Voldemort, his name is merely a jumble of letters the same as mine or yours. Voldemort likely knew the Ministry was prepared to dodge his attack. Voldemort knew he would gain very little in his move. I believe Voldemort chose to attack because he knows we would see such a strike as devastating and lose hope. That was Voldemort's plan. We can thwart him yet. We have lost nothing but a building. The attack led to few casualties and so long as we do not lose our hope he has gained nothing today. The ministry can run from here as easily as from the building. Our work will not be changed. Fear not. However, this new arrangement will cause another increase in security and it is likely that we will not be able to allow more trips to Hogsmeade. Be kind and courteous and you will have nothing to worry about within the walls. Now you have a few hours left before the feast tonight. It has been moved onto the lawn before the castle so that we may eat with our new guests."

Whatever Dumbledore said I knew what increased security really meant, it meant that anyone with ties to the Dark Lord would likely suffer harassment wherever they went. I knew I would likely not escape, Vox would certainly not. Harry had always been harassed though as of late that hardly seemed to bother him. I didn't know about Tesla and Neville, their families were certainly of the light but the ministry knew well enough that they associated with us. Despite being a teacher I knew Remus would very likely suffer as much disrespect as could be thrown his way. He at least still had the remnants of Dumbledore's protection. Severus came to mind, he was still playing spy for Dumbledore, a role that was steadily becoming more and more dangerous. The ministry was hardly forgiving and if anyone would be shown less kindness than Remus it would be Severus. I was starting to think I would see very little of him outside of his dungeons, not that I did much anyway.

Dumbledore dismissed us with only a few more words and I watched my godfather slip from the room as if he had just glided through a wall. He really was gifted at being overlooked. I bid goodbye to my companions and followed him to his quarters in the dungeons. His rooms were even deeper underground than the Slytherin dorms. I was shouldered roughly as I passed my former housemates, but I didn't really care. Eventually I was alone in the dark corridor. It was cold down here and I felt like shivering. For the first time in my life I felt like I had to say something and I didn't know how to begin with him. Harry at least always seemed to have seen what you were pointing out; he might ignore your warning but he was never unaware. I felt that my godfather was too stubborn when he decided something must be done. It was more and more often of late that he cancelled my extra lessons; he did not hide why and I knew that it was because he was summoned. I had drunk more calming draught since school started then… I don't know what, but I used it so much I had been forced to brew the potion almost once a week. I had increased both dosage and potency as the year had continued. My stomach turned over again as I reached up to knock on Severus' door. These were his private quarters, not his office; a place few people saw. My fist rapped against the dark stained wood. There was no answer and that only made my nerves and stomach worse. My hands started to shake; I didn't know why I was so nervous, but for some reason the talk that I was planning in my head made me feel like I was at sea in a storm. I reached under my cloak, found the dose of calming draught that I kept with me. I tipped back my head and took it in one swallow. I walked further down the corridor to the door of his laboratory. The potion was already having the wanted effects and by the time I got to the door I was able to knock with more confidence then I felt.

"Come," he said, the word was short but not unkind.

I pushed the door and it swung easily, neither locked nor latched. His frown changed when I stepped into the poor light, "Ah, Draco," it was part sigh, but his voice was warm, and while he did not smile, (he almost never did, I had only seen a true smile twice, both when I had brewed difficult potions perfectly at the first go,) his face relaxed to a neutral expression. "I thought it would be Albus," his voice was a murmur; something I was not supposed to hear and I courteously forgot it.

He stood from the stool, slowly. He looked exhausted, the shadows only emphasizing that impression. He moved to the cauldron, a thing bigger than those we used in class, he was likely brewing something for the hospital wing, and peered down at the liquid. It was silvery, but as he took up the stirring rod, an ash stick, and swirled the potion it turned purple, acid green and then settled as a dark blood red. It was a blood replenishing potion, and that final turn had finished it.

"Severus," I said cautiously, "I don't want you to be a spy." I felt like a five year old saying it that way. His look was sudden, an examination that made me feel like he could see my bones, the blood in my veins.

He looked back down at the potion. "You have known what I do for years, you have known since the end of fourth year." I was a little shocked; I had known then, I had not spoken then though at the time I had blindly followed my father and he would have gladly turned in the traitor. I had not spoken because I loved my godfather more. "You knew then what I did, and you have learned since then why. I cannot abandon it now."

I knew he would be stubborn. "Your protections are running out. Voldemort is gaining power. How long has it been since he confided something important to your ear. He does not trust you. He must be suspicious."

"The Dark Lord is suspicious of everyone." The remark was meant to deflect.

"Listen to me. You have two lords right now. Voldemort will certainly destroy you if he finds out. If even a whisper reaches him how long do you think you will live." My voice softened and I swallowed. "Dumbledore has lost much of his standing; he can't protect you much longer. The Ministry will not be kind to you."

"Where do you want me to turn?" His voice was ironic. "To Potter? A boy that struggles himself? He is no older than you; you think he can protect me."

I had lost the tiny advantage I had come in with, "yes, I do." I felt like a five year old again.

* * *

My godson's voice was petulant. I thought of a thousand harsh things to say to him. Things I had used to justify what I did. I couldn't say them, a year ago maybe, when my position was still strong. Now I feared he was right. I ground my teeth, trying to think of a way to make him drop it. There was little that could make a Malfoy drop a subject but I had found just the right ratio of deflection and information to do it. "I made a decision a long time ago, and now I will pay the debts."

"Severus," he looked like he might stamp his foot, "That's stupid; you are going to die paying your debts."

The words were harsh. My teeth ground harder. When Draco saw I would not redeem his statement with a response he turned on his heel and slammed the door. He really was like a child. Since he was gone, I admitted to myself he was right, even about Potter being able to protect me. I revolted at that but knew that was only the last scrapes of pride. I had lost all rights to self-worth years ago. Draco was right.

* * *

The door slammed behind me and the echo of it followed me up the hall as I stalked towards the Room of Requirement. 'Stubborn, stubborn man.' I raged that there was nothing I could do that would not end up with him dead or in prison by one hand or another. If he was going to live he would have to do it himself. That made me sick. I wanted to take another dose, knew it was too soon. I went through the door glanced at my friends sitting before the fire. I stormed into my room, slammed that door too. The loud crack of the fractured door jamb made me feel a little bit better. I waved my wand vaguely in that direction, 'reparo.' I started a fire under the cauldron I had set up at the corner of the fireplace and frowned up at my supplies. I started pulling things down at random. The door clicked behind me; I knew it was Vox and did not turn around to greet him. The vampire settled into the chair and I heard the pages of a book flop open to a familiar page. I worked steadily, not really following a theory, just throwing things into the potion as I felt like it. I was taking notes, on the off chance that I might actually make something useful; my frustration had not led to complete foolishness. The last thing I wanted to do was make something worthwhile, not be able to repeat it and have to give over a sample to Snape to analyze and recreate. The idea was mortifying especially after our argument. The necessity of fastidious notes eventually calmed me.

"How are you, Draco?" His voice was normal, not the stressed tones of everyone around me. It was reassuring that somebody was handling problems better than the rest of us.

"Not well," I said honestly, still not turning to look at him. I stirred feverishly, clockwise at the very rim of the cauldron. Vox laid a cold hand on my shoulder. I let go of the stirring rod, this one was made of willow, and it swirled around and around and around.

_Author's Note: Well, despite my considerably longer absence than normal, I have returned. This time I have an excuse that's better than school. I'm studying abroad and my power converter failed, which damaged my laptop's ac adapter. So while I waited for a new one of those I was computer-less. Trust me I was just as distraught as you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Snape is one of the other characters that I really enjoy writting._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	35. Exposed

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Five: Exposed

It had been two weeks since the takeover. The factions that now operated on Hogwarts ground were stressed and chafed. Dumbledore, while he publicly welcomed the ministry onto what he considered his grounds, still held Order meetings. The ministry knew this and did not like the idea of a powerful vigilante group, as they commonly labeled the Order, working almost openly on the same grounds they were. Harry Potter only added to the tension. The Law Enforcement still took every opportunity to arrest him and his list of crimes was not growing any shorter. He had lost his patience and now commonly left the scene after breaking arms or wrists. His attitude was not violent nor did he even look more than irritated, he just did not ensure no one was injured if they chose to tangle with him. That of course made the Ministry more upset with Dumbledore, accusing him of harboring a fugitive. He of course replied that he had no control over the boy and his attempts to corner the child had been no more successful. I had been to some of the meetings since Halloween and both parties still tried to pretend Potter was just an unruly child. I could tell they all felt threatened, though. The contrast was pleasing to someone like me. I considered my godson's words again. 'You will die paying your debts,' had echoed through my mind, haunting me whenever I looked at him or Potter. Dumbledore still held certain foul contracts over my head; he held a monopoly on my protection. When I had turned spy, when I was younger and had only my own life to risk, it had not really mattered, I knew I was good. I had thought the work was good, even redemptive of my former actions. I knew I could be the spy no one else could be and at the time I had wanted, even needed to protect… Regardless, I had agreed to Dumbledore's terms readily. I didn't regret the act but now my information was of less and less value, and my life in pointless peril but I saw no way out. Not now that I was so entrenched in the act. The few times my cover had almost been blown Dumbledore had been furious at me and I could not help but wonder what he would do when it finally did dissolve, and I had no doubts that it eventually would.

I looked down at the potion I was brewing, stirred it back and forth, never making full turns. No need to count strokes I was waiting for a periwinkle color. It was turning in that direction from its previous black. Sudden pain arced through my arm focused on the dark mark. The mark burned like the night I had received it and the rest of me felt like ice. I had let go of the stirring rod and I watched now, clutching my arm, as if that would take away the pain, as the rod made a full circle in the cauldron. It was ruined, three days of steady work ruined by an ill timed summons. I wanted to vomit and not only from the pain.

I glared at the potion as I took my cloak from the peg and left. I went to Dumbledore's office, it was the only fire left hooked to the floo service, at least in the castle. I passed Potter in the hall not far from the gargoyle guard, "Good luck, professor." I was so distracted that I didn't realize what he meant and then how he knew. I stopped clutching my still painful arm. 'Fool, you'll betray yourself if you aren't careful.' I gave the password to the gargoyle, and leapt up the turning staircase. The door was not closed and I walked through the arch.

Dumbledore was standing next to the fire, hand on the mantle. "Harry said you would be not far behind him. Voldemort must be furious if the emotion slipped over to the boy."

"He's not a child, Albus." I didn't know why I was defending Potter, other than his words had sounded so sincere when I had passed him.

"No," Albus sounded inconsolably sad for that moment, "Severus, remember your duty."

I frowned, though I directed the look at the fire so he wouldn't suspect. I felt the smallest probe at my mind. I had no need to throw up barriers, they were always there, ready.

"How dare you, Albus." I stepped forward and took floo powder from the dish on the mantle, threw it into the fire and stepped in. I called out for 'Grimmauld Place,' and stepped into the stone kitchen. Molly was there, she turned, saw it was me and went back to directing the kitchenware with her wand. I went up the stairs through the front door, passed Tonks, who gave me a sidelong look, and left the wards. As soon as I had, I apparated.

There was a room into which we all apparated in the Dark Lord's manor, it was the only place within three miles that you could apparate to or from, and no one was going to walk so far and keep the Dark Lord waiting. I had wasted enough time getting out of Hogwarts.

I hurried through the halls, everyone else was already there it seemed, I didn't think I had taken so long. I entered the hall, an audience chamber, really; it was large and round with a ring of columns. The Dark Lord was standing at the center of his followers. He never lounged in a throne and I felt he was the more intimidating for it. He was taller than everyone else in the hall, the result of one of the many rituals he had performed. I took my place in the second ring as part of the inner circle, though lower in rank than Malfoy, or Lestrange.

Voldemort turned studying the circle. After one rotation his gaze landed on me. My mask was firmly in place but I felt naked before him. "How kind of you to join us at last, Severus." His use of my name put me on edge. He only did that when the inner circle met exclusively, to insure that anyone in the lower ranks trying to sell secrets would not have the opportunity to sell the names of his most trusted.

"Step into the center Severus Snape. Take off you mask."

* * *

I seemed to have knees no longer, or no muscles to keep them straight. The pain, from my scar ricocheted through me, left everything weak, unable. I grabbed at Neville, fingers curled into his cloak, refusing to be sent to my knees by the fury of the Dark Lord. It went on stronger than I had ever felt. I was vaguely aware of Tesla behind us as Neville half dragged me out of the hall. I had no strength to help him; all of it spent trying to stay standing up and keep the source of the pain at bay . The pain flowed around me as if I were nothing more than a single stone on the beach, and the ocean was going to flood the world. Neville eased me into a chair.

"Get Draco," the voice was distant. I could hear the murmur of the Dark Lords rage more clearly, and someone else. He was familiar but I did not know him from what I saw, only a black cloak and a white mask. Then with another convulsion I knew it must be Snape. I had after all already known that Voldemort had summoned him, and the Dark Lord was either too mad to notice that I saw, or he wanted me to see. It was the later if the pain was any indication. It was always worse when he forced the bond. Neville took one of my hands in his, steady against my shaking. He swept hair gently off my forehead, soothing, but I hardly noticed.

* * *

I did as asked, trying to keep my shaking under control. In removing my mask I lowered the hood of my cloak as well.

"You look upset Severus, what is wrong?" I knew that voice; it was the tone he used on Death Eaters who disappointed him.

"I am sorry, my Lord, I was thinking of the potion I had to leave. It is likely ruined now. I regret the potion but I am at your service, always."

He paused, and I wondered if I could get out of this situation yet. I doubted it. "You have always had a sly tongue. How many times it must have saved your skin when you have lied to Dumbledore about being his spy," he laughed. "It saved your skin several times standing before me, swearing your loyalty to me alone. What am I to believe?" His voice was musing, he already knew; I was not going to be given the chance to lie my way out of this one. His wand flicked, and the white mask I held at my side shattered.

I dropped to my knees not from fear but in a true attempt to make him believe that I was still loyal. His last words had actually brought a sort of relief; if by some miracle I survived this encounter I would be free at last because I could serve no purpose to anyone. I longed to be free… Yet here I was still trying to keep my cover.

"My Lord, never would I betray you. I humbly ask who has said such against me so that I might show him false and traitor."

"There is that smooth tongue again. If I were perhaps as vain as some seem to think, your tone might gain you grace. I am not, and I am certainly not merciful, not to someone who I had long trusted and now discovered that he was never my man." He paused again, and I tried to get a look at his face without unbending from my groveling posture. The light was above him; his face cast in shadow. "Severus Snape, do you pay attention to the phases of the moon? Did you know tonight it is full? It has been a long time since Fenrir's pack has had any fun, they have seen no challenge for some time and have grown restless." It was said in a tone of sympathy and amusement. Nose pressed almost to the floor at the hem of his robe, I involuntarily closed my eyes in horror. I could not imagine what he was saying. It was early in the day yet, just past noon; they would not turn for hours yet.

"My Lord, is it he who has called me traitor? I still do not know…"

"Silence, evidence of your betrayal has been shown to me and I have seen the patterns of it for too long to leave doubts."

"Please, let me show you my loyalty…"

"No, this is the end, Severus Snape."

"Stand," said the Dark Lord's voice, though he was no longer standing over me. I obeyed, the last time I would. My wand was plucked from my pocket by a summoning charm; nothing for defense then. I was alone now the edges of the room were in such shadow that I could not see what was hiding there. I scanned the room desperately, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. The others had already departed.

Five hulking humanoid shapes stalked out of the darkness. These werewolves were not like Lupin, they had embraced a brutality that I could not believe wolves had. I knew werewolves really were only the melding of man and wolf; any cruelty seen in the animal was all human and the little bit of lunacy that the pain of transformation caused.

The five were men, each standing a head taller than me, with shoulders to match a bull, some carried knives, another, a wooden pole, Fenrir of course was bare-handed.

If I could get the pole away from the one I might just have a chance. The man with the rod swung viciously, but I could see that to him it was no more than a crude bludgeon.

I faced off with that werewolf aware that the others were as likely to hang back as attack. He charged at a bark from Fenrir, running full tilt, weapon flinging this way and that. It was easy to step aside, twist my arm around his and relieve him of the short staff. With the staff I felt a little better, I had not practiced with one for some time, and I knew against such larger armed men it only made the odds of my survival a little closer to even, but I felt better.

The werewolf recovered and charged back. It was an easy instinctual movement that saved me. It had been an odd circumstance that had suggested that I learn how to swing a stick. It had been a different enemy then, aurors raiding my house when I really had been a Death Eater. My wand had been foolishly out of reach and all I had was an elm stirring rod. It turned out to be a reasonable defense; the wood of elm has always had unprecedented reactivity with magic and the rod had soaked up the spells thrown at me, at least as long as it was in the line of the spell. The incident had brought back memories of Oriental wizards practicing a martial art with sticks of that approximate length when I had been travelling there. So, I had learned to wield the rods as weapons. I cracked the man across the shoulders on the third rush, not hard my strength had faded but it was enough to spark the others.

Two of the others jumped in to attack to make it three against one. They were testing the ground it seemed. The little wolfish caution for prey with antlers showed through. They made faints in and out and earned cracks to the arm for the trouble. My aim was not so good then; I had been hoping to hit fingers and wrists.

The caution did not last long, they forgot the small pains I had given them and soon I had three heavy men seeking my blood. It was everything I could do to keep the knives from reaching me; had the blades been longer I would not have managed it. Even so I received several cuts, shallow and for the time forgettable.

The fight paused, they retreating, looking like wolf cubs called back from toying with a creature they should not. The image did not last long, four came back. With the addition of a fourth they ended up as much in each other's way as gaining any advantage. I did not do so well and got a deeper gash on my upper arm. The fight seemed to continue forever, and yet Fenrir did not join the fray. I knew a certain lunacy was coming to them as the time passed. I did not believe that it had been that long, but each lunge at me seemed more crazed, more desperate. They were losing their minds, and they were starving.

Another bark called them off. Sweat dripped down my face, and I stared at Fenrir. He was bare-chested and wild looking. He seemed already to have transformed even though he was clearly still human. I knew it would be him alone next.

So I was not surprised when Fenrir leapt from the edge of the shadow with fury, no pattern, and no care of pain. I had seen him loosed before on full moons. He was a terror. I caught him with the rod a few times but he plowed through it.

I stepped back and sideways barely keeping my feet. Each time I lost more ground as he attacked. The others grew too impatient and rushed back in. A lucky shot with the butt of the rod made the smallest collapse. I did not think he was dead but perhaps he would stay down long enough. Plans started to run through my head, at first I hoped to regain my wand but I quickly realized that was folly. I could not apparate or portkey though I could do the second if I made it out of this room and to the single un-warded space.

I spun the rod to the side and cracked another werewolf in the temple; he too collapsed, not to unconsciousness but at least to a headache and blurred vision that would hopefully keep him out of the fight.

Fenrir drove a shoulder into me from behind, and the flick of the rod over my shoulder had no significance to him. I rolled back to my feet. Hit one of the others with the knives in the throat. I savagely hoped I had broken his windpipe. I raised my arm for another strike and pain shot from my elbow through my shoulder and across my back. I nearly dropped the rod, kept it by the tips of my fingers and passed it none too gracefully to my other hand.

Two left, I had killed the last one, as I judged from the glazed horror on his frozen face. Two left… I was shocked to still be standing, to still be relatively uninjured. They kept on ignorant that they were now down three companions.

The one still with knives, lunged again and I traded a blow to the back of his head with a knife in the ribs. It was a bad trade. The steel slipped in, cold, and the energy that had kept me light, left. I felt like lead, like I had an ocean above me. Air came not so easily, did I hear a whistling? There was no time left, the knife wound was deep.

Fenrir lunged again; maybe he had realized that I had disposed of his pack, one wizard and without a wand felling four armed moon-crazy werewolves. I doubted he could feel embarrassment over the loss but something was now driving him harder. He made use of his greater weight and I found the little leverage the length of the rod gave me was not enough.

I screamed, unable to hold onto anything including consciousness.

_Author's Note: Let me know what you think on this part. I hope it wasn't too out of character for you. Please review._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	36. Portkey

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Six: Portkey

Tesla found Vox and me in the library and explained only what she understood of the situation. Which was not much; as much as Neville liked the girl, and as much as Harry appeared to trust her, we had kept the secrets of our quartet. Harry treated his whole life as private, perhaps as a reaction to the publicity that had come unwelcome to him at previous points in his life. When we arrived at the Room of Requirement, Vox and Tesla somewhat behind me, not even Vox's long stride keeping pace with me; I found the two. Neville had managed to carry Harry back to the Room of Requirement. It certainly seemed that he had to have been carried. I did what I could for him, and shooed Tesla out. She was not really staring, but her blatant curiosity was getting on my nerves. At least it was coupled with due concern; Neville could explain to her later.

I didn't know why Harry looked so much worse. It was not terribly unusual for this to happen as of late and normally Harry was resilient, sometimes we didn't know until the vision was hours over, when he told us of something he had seen. Something must have made the Dark Lord furious. Harry stared into the fire the rest of the evening, not even acknowledging Sirius and Remus when they left to answer the call of the moon. He seemed oblivious to the burning fever that should have turned him to ash. High fevers were just as dangerous to us as I knew they were to muggles. The potions I had brewed did no good and the fever raged on. Harry was not delirious, as anyone else would be and by evening he looked back to normal. Except he did not respond, it was as if only his body was there.

* * *

The spell lifted, and instinct drove me to my feet, everyone was gone. I deliriously latched onto the plan I had come up with. I snatched up the knife I saw on the floor for good measure, my wand was gone, and dashed for the door on the last of my strength. I didn't remember what the knife was doing there, but the pain suggested something, and the light-headedness from blood-loss, I guessed. Already, blackness took my vision every few steps, I could only be grateful that even the Dark Lord had to aim his spells. Though, frankly, there must have been some magic protecting me because I could not possibly be that lucky. Flashes of light exploded around me, making divots in the floor. A curse hit my leg, I half collapsed, fell onto the door handle and pushed outward. I was shocked to find no guard but I took what was given me and stubbornly hobbled on. Another curse cut at my hip as I rounded a corner. I was almost there. I fell against that door too, and fell inward into the un-warded room. With my last conscious thought, I activated the portkey, a charm that I wore about my neck.

* * *

Suddenly the vision left. Perhaps Voldemort remembered I could see into him the same as he could reach out to me. I hoped he had walled me off for good since it seemed I was unable to block it.

* * *

"Snape," Harry said. His grip was still strong on my hand but the rest of him looked as weak and frail as his undisguised self would suggest. He stood with a sureness that no one should have after that kind of fever. "We have to find him, raise everybody. Make sure it's one of us. Draco, if you'd come with me." He left. I was a little shocked by the suddenness, like a gale blowing through when before it had been still sunshine and not a cloud. I thought about calling out after him and demanding that he sit back down and rest. I dismissed the idea; he'd only ignore the suggestion. I grabbed the remnants of my potions and hurried after him. I saw the hem of his cloak whip around a corner; I nearly broke into a run after him. It struck me how absurd this would have been two years ago. I did catch him, but only after we had reached the grand staircase, its marble glowing in the moonlight. The torches still not lit, it seemed they commonly weren't on the full moon.

"Is there somewhere along the border of the wards that Snape might apparate to? I think he would have come here, and not headquarters…"

"Harry, is he alive?" I was suddenly very afraid for my godfather. I don't know why it had not sunk in earlier.

"He will be. Draco can you think of anywhere… Anywhere special, did he share things like that."

Harry was walking away from the castle in a direction almost no one ever followed, away from the forest and the lake and the Quidditch pitch.

"No, he didn't… Not that I can think of."

* * *

With Draco's admission I decided my idea was at least worth investigation. The path was little more than a deer run and led into a dark grove. The ground sloped upward growing rocky. It twisted around boulders and large trees. Each step felt new but the view ahead into the dimness was right. I didn't know where I was headed not really just that the path was familiar. I grew tired of walking and became the panther. Draco was his horse Animagus shortly after. It was easy enough then, leaping over tangled underbrush, boulders and fallen trees. Eventually the ground leveled. I looked back through the trees and understood why few people came this way; we had climbed to above the height of Hogwarts tallest tower. I had not realized it, but it had been almost straight up only the switchbacks allowing such a climb. The familiarity drove me onward, away from the edge of the steep hill. Five minutes later a wall loomed out of the gloom. It had an iron gate hanging between two pillars. The pillars looked untouched but the wall stretching to either side was crumbling and at the edge of visibility it was little more than a pile of rocks, beyond that I imagined the forest had grown right over it. That was as far as familiarity ran though; it dead ended a few feet before the gate.

Draco became human again too.

"Harry?" He made my name a question.

"Do you think the wards line up with this wall?" I looked up at the top of the gate. It was old, ornate. It didn't match the other gates of Hogwarts but it seemed like it might be.

"Sure," Draco shrugged, "What are we doing here? I think it much more likely that Snape would go to somewhere someone might find him…"

"I think that's the point, I've seen this place before… somewhere… Maybe Snape used to meet someone up here…" I pushed against the gate, and stepped through. It felt different on the other side. "Come on help me look."

Draco followed swiftly and drifted off quickly to the left. The other side of the gate didn't bring that sense of déjà vu. I walked a pattern through the trees, searching.

"Harry, come quick," it was a shriek, something I would not have expected Draco's smooth voice to make. I apparated to the noise.

Snape was propped between the roots of an ancient dying tree, its gnarled branches bearing cherry blossoms in November. I dropped to my knees next to Draco. He was already ripping the robes away from a deep wound in Snape's side.

"Can you do something?"

"Draco," I said gently, he turned teary eyes on me, "I saw it happen, it's real. The most I can do is keep him from death."

Draco gritted his teeth; I didn't think the frustration was with me. I remembered he had come back from lessons with Snape in a similar state, a teary anger that was very unlike him normally.

"Can you get him back to the hospital wing? I'm afraid to move him much."

I grabbed both of them and apparated to the ward. We appeared conveniently behind a curtain at the very end where Madame Pomfrey kept her stock of extra potions. Little attention was being paid to that area; there was after all only one door to the infirmary and with the apparition wards no one should have been able to get in. Ministry employees occupied beds close to Pomfrey's office but there had been only a few recent injuries that needed long term care, a priceless advantage of magic. I slipped down the aisle to her office under a notice-me-not charm, not true invisibility, but anyone who saw me would think little of my person. They would not see Harry Potter. It was actually a harder trick, I had learned, then invisibility. I almost had to believe that I did not exist. That Harry Potter wasn't real. But if I really did… I wasn't sure if I would cease to be; that part was a paradox that I was unwilling to ponder. I had found the balance of it after some practice. I realized it was a year ago that I had mastered it. Had so much time passed?

I stepped into her office and shut the door, coming back as my usual almost blatant presence. Madame Pomfrey started; the tea cup in her hand splashed.

"Madame Pomfrey, Professor Snape is in the back, he needs your help."

She stood in a surge of energy I had never seen from her, likely I had always been unconscious when she had come to my desperate need (I had only every seen the pushy nurse who had every intention of keeping you well whether you wanted to or not when in that state.)

"Quietly," I warned, "You'll know from where he has come."

"Quite, Mr. Potter," she looked at me closely, a scrutiny I had not experienced since fifth year. She took my head and studied my eyes before I could move away; I had not expected her to do it. "Were you held under the cructiatus curse today?"

"No, but he was," I said and moved pointedly out of her reach.

* * *

'Harry Potter really is a shocking specimen,' I thought. Poor boy, I didn't think there had been a year before last that he had not spent time in my ward, and not for the ordinary stuff. Everybody came by for some pepper-up potion once in a while; that at least was a good cure, tasty and provided the relatively amusing side effect of steam pouring out your ears for a good couple of hours. No, that had never been Harry; I had never seen him for anything ordinary. Here he was in his usual heroics; concerned for another when it was he who needed a bed, some dreamless sleep potion, judging from the shadow under his eyes, and maybe a few other things. He looked a little frayed in another way; something I had discovered was a pretty good indication of torture under 'crucio.'

I realized his concern when I went behind the curtain. Snape had come back to me, mostly on Dumbledore's insistence, many times during this war and the one before. It had rarely called for anything more than bed rest; and normally he slipped into the castle unnoticed and dosed himself in his own room. I suspected he used some of the less legal versions of the potions I distributed. I pushed his blonde apprentice aside, taking the wadding of cloth he had pressed against Severus' side.

"I already gave him some blood-replenishing potion; I only had half a dose though. No broken bones, that I found, maybe a fracture, left ankle… This wound is the worst," he informed me as I did preliminary diagnostics. With the blood loss he should be dead; Harry had something to do with that of course. I had seen the pattern; his friends came in without him occasionally, but if I heard of a fight that involved him, I knew no one on his side would have need of my help, though his opponents commonly did. I looked around for the young man. He had disappeared. Draco was helping me clean wounds. He'd make a good healer; he had sure enough hands and it seemed a steady head as well, that was if he did not stay secluded in a potion's lab. It took no effort at all to mend the gashes; all were clean cuts, from a sharp weapon I guessed. Magic, even cutting spells cauterized the edges of wounds and those tended to leave scars no matter the skill of the healer.

Snape did not wake, but I was not worried, I dosed him with more potions and left Draco to watch him for the next few hours though I couldn't really risk either for very long without Dumbledore knowing and dealing with the Ministry. They had really caused more problems in my ward than I needed.

_Author's Note: Here it is the next chapter. I hope you like it. Please Review._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	37. Albus

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Albus

Madame Pomfrey sent a messenger to me; it used to be easy, using the floo, but that was too risky now. It was a polite request and not rushed, of my presence in her hospital wing. She generally treated the area as entirely separate from the school and disliked my presence there. I had been accused of agitating her patients often enough. And perhaps I had been encouraging them to get out of bed on the early side, but as far as I saw they had needed little prodding. I walked, unhurried, that way. The doors stood tall. I opened one and walked in with calculated casualness. She had suggested caution of a sort.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, it is certainly odd to see you here. I did not think you visited the ward often especially when none of your students are here."

"Ah, Minister Scrimgeour," I had wanted to forget that Zabini had been replaced by Scrimgeour, the populace had perhaps hoped that he would be able to deal with the problem Zabini had failed to, "I too am human; I came for a little pepper-up. The days are cold and old bones seem to soak it in."

"Dumbledore, I have been informed that a suspected follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, is here. I know you spoke for Severus Snape, but new evidence has been brought forward. Can you be so sure of his loyalty?"

Madame Pomfrey had said he had only been in one of her beds for a few hours. I was mildly shocked that the ministry had caught wind of him. They were normally woefully behind; and on matters like this I had to admit that I preferred it that way.

But since they knew, "Professor Snape has been able to provide information invaluable in thwarting Voldemort's plans, at the risk of his life. I understand even now it is possible he has taken mortal wounds." The last was only partly true, he had taken mortal wounds, but they were healed now and he was in no danger. Other than the danger the ministry posed. "If you excuse me one of my staff has been grievously injured. I must speak with him."

"I would speak with him after you."

"Certainly, Minister, that is still your right."

I tread lightly down the row of beds to the last one. Madame Pomfrey ran out of her office and when we were cloistered behind the curtain around Severus' bed, she turned me. Severus was asleep.

"Albus, have you seen Harry?"

"Madame," I said gently, her worry was clear, "The boy is a ghost within these walls; I have not seen him close since two weeks before Halloween. He visited my office yesterday morning, but he refused to sit down across from me. Merely stood at the door, told me something had gone wrong and left. Snape came in shortly thereafter. I hardly think the boy is unwell, at least not in the fashion that he will allow assistance."

"It looked as if he had been under cruciatus all night." Her stance became firmer demanding that I do something.

I redirected her, "how is Severus?" I asked.

"He is fine now, or he will be. Harry and the Malfoy boy were here." She sighed. "Harry looked as if he had been through a fight, is that scar on his neck from that night."

"Yes," I looked at Severus. He did not stir. I didn't know where he stood now with Voldemort, but it seemed the ministry was going to use him for a scapegoat the way they were already posturing in a sick ward.

My influence had weakened, everyone suspected everyone else of passing on information to the other side, or just maneuvering for power. The Ministry seemed more fearful of the second.

I looked at him a minute more, and left. Madame Pomfrey followed and then shooed everyone not in a bed out of her ward. She was a powerful woman on her turf.

_Author's Note: A little short but I thought Albus deserved his one chapter._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	38. Allies

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty- Eight: Allies

I woke to white walls and linens. It was not particularly unusual for me. I tried to get up, and found a weakness I had never experienced. I found it hard even to raise a hand. There was no pain though I remembered it and that was enough. The curtain was stretched to enclose my bed which I was grateful for when I heard the noise of official sounding voices just beyond the cloth. The dry harshness put me in mind of the time I had been brought in on charges during the last war. I had already been making overtures to Dumbledore at that time and it was that that had saved me. Forever I would associate that tone with politicians and if I never heard it again I think I could be happy.

"I told you Severus," it was Draco's voice, and the words might be accusing except he sounded so relieved. He handed me a cup of water, helped me drink when I had trouble. I was grateful no one else was there; I don't think my pride would have taken it. Except, there was someone else there. Potter was standing like a will-o-the-wisp at a parting in the curtain; he looked halfway to invisibility, like mist on a moonless night.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" My voice was rough, rasping.

"I'm acting as a look out. Madame Pomfrey is refusing entry to anyone except a few ministry people. I brought Draco in because he wanted to see you."

I had expected something sarcastic from him, but his voice was gentle, just an explanation to a question. His eyes tilted towards me, I saw the wear of crucio there even from where I sat. "You saw everything?"

* * *

I looked at Snape then peered out the gap in the curtain again; Pomfrey was dosing one of the other patients still. "You saw everything?" It didn't sound like a question.

"I had little choice, every time I closed my eyes yesterday, even when I didn't I could still hear, and when Voldemort was at his most furious… it didn't matter if my eyes were closed or open."

Snape didn't speak, and I looked at him again. His expression was neutral as he met my gaze, a little shock when he did. Maybe he saw something he didn't expect. We had never really been good judges of the other's character, too many prejudices perhaps.

"Potter, long torture under crucio has terrible side effects that can last long after, and not appear for years, have you taken something for it?"

He sounded truly concerned. "No, but the circle of the bond between me and the caster dissipates such."

* * *

That was an interesting notion. I wondered if it held any truth or if he was deflecting. I was about to ask but Draco spoke.

"Severus, the ministry is going to arrest you."

That was something else to worry about. I sat up, still weak but with a flood of energy that came from panic. Even that put my head to pounding. I weighed the limited options laid before me. I could not walk out of here, the ministry officials standing outside were likely stationed just for that purpose though they needn't have worried, Madame Pomfrey would push me back into a bed like a child, or I could ask Potter for help. The consideration stung at first, but it was more like a flinch for a punch that never came, I realized that I didn't really mind. But could he really take me out of here, would he be willing. I stood up, wobbling a little. I realized I was still in my robes not dressed in a hospital gown, thank Merlin. Draco was right at my elbow with a steadying hand that I tried to scorn but was actually grateful for.

"Potter…"

"I prefer Harry, among my friends." That was another shock; apparently my surprise showed through, hours after leaving the Dark Lord it seemed all my careful control was stripped away by Potter calling me friend. I guess it was shocking enough… Harry must have thought it deserved explanation, "I know what you suffered, and perhaps we are not so different."

"Harry," the name did not seem so unfamiliar, "can you help me out of here?"

"We aren't here, professor," he said. I couldn't decide if it was some mind trick that allowed his magic the strength it had… but then the noise from the other side seemed to have faded. "Where is there?"

"My chambers," I said, I needed something for my headache, and something else besides that. I blinked and we stood in front of my fireplace. Harry very comfortably plopped himself down on my sofa, the golden mongoose slipping out of his satchel. Draco took the traveling like stepping from one room to another but I was stunned again; it was nothing like apparation. It was like no magical transportation I had ever experienced. It was comfortable.

I recovered quickly, went to my bedroom and my private stash of healing potions, I dosed myself and pocketed a few more for later if I did not see my room again. If the ministry was intending to arrest me, they would search my rooms and office. I thought of all the quasi-legal substances, enough to have me arrested even without all the rest, stored carefully in corners no one should think of. I'd lose them all. I mourned my years of secret research.

"Harry, the ministry will search…"

"I thought you locked your doors? Who can open them but you?"

I puzzled again, he seemed to hold a contrived notion of the world, but how did that make it so? Thinking is not magic. 'More evidence for the state of Potter-normal…'

"To Dumbledore's Office?" Harry asked shrugging.

"Is that best?" Draco was leaning against the doorframe. A frown on his face said he thought the action unwise. "They set a trap for you there, Harry."

I didn't know that, 'what trap? Clearly not a successful one…'

"I am no foolish mouse thinking only of cheese, Draco."

"Can you keep us all out of the cat's jaws?"

"It has no jaws. They should not yet know that you are gone from your bed."

"I should go, Albus should know…"

"what to do?" there was a heavy irony in his voice, "I did not think you were so blinded by him. But perhaps he will at that." With his words we stood at the door to Albus' office. Harry's mongoose draped around his shoulders, its small black eyes wary and glinting. I reached up a hand and knocked on the old wood frame, it crackled with magic. I had felt the zap a hundred times and it always felt like a warning.

"Enter," the voice was weary. I twisted the knob and pushed in. Albus was seemingly alone, but the disappointment on his face made me want to address the Minister of Magic instead.

"Albus? I understand that the Ministry seeks my arrest."

"Aye, my boy," I hated that address, and by the faint color in Harry's cheeks so did he, even when it was not directed at him. "Severus, can you say your loyalty is still to me? Under vertiserum?"

It was an odd question. My instinct was to answer 'yes,' instantly but could I when my actions had always been for her, in her memory… My lips parted to explain just that technicality when I noticed he played with a crystal phial, the liquid inside clear with a unique iridescent glint when the light hit it just right. Then my heart turned cold and my mind wary. Vertiserum… He intended me to drink it on the spot. His trust in me was gone and I had to wonder if it meant I was outside of his protection.

"What did they show you that your confidence in me has slipped so?"

"This was your second chance. I was going to give you another to confess, but your hesitation speaks for you. Accio wand." I only realized that I had it when it was flying to his outstretched hand. I had thought I had lost it. His blue gaze, the one that made the wizengamot quiver, was leveled at me, and it was emotionless. He must have cast another spell; ropes tied my hands in the small of my back. I looked for my students, they stood leaning against the low counter that ran around half the room. Harry made a gesture that seemed to ask for patience. I wasn't feeling very patient.

* * *

Conjured ropes appeared and wrestled Snape's arms behind his back to bind them there. Snape looked at me, asking for assistance I thought, though the look was foreign on his face. I waved a placating hand. I had a feeling that this was not all the traps sprung yet. Draco and I were out of the picture as far as everyone thought; invisible to all but the potions master. He did not know that of course.

I was right, Ministry aurors paraded in, if five can parade in so small a space. At least their self inflated importance made the parade; they were puffed up too with the thought being the ones to catch a long know and dangerous Death Eater at last, at least that was how the paper might make it out. Two flanked Snape, hands on his upper arms in a bruising grip. I wondered what evidence had been brought against him, something severe to go by Dumbledore's expression. I did not think I would ever find out, because I was just planning how best to spring our captive professor. It was no longer a matter of ability but what would make the most commotion. I decided the twins had more influence on me than they should; I never used to enjoy commotion. I nodded to the door indicating Draco should be ready to leave when the time came. Kenelm jumped to the floor, frolicked at my feet, baring his teeth. I think he knew it was about to be a fight. I let my invisibility drop and walked to stand before Dumbldore's desk.

"I find it interesting that you expect a man who has extensive knowledge of potions and poisons," I stressed the second, "to drink something he did not himself see brewed. A man who has long acted as a spy, a man who's paranoia has long protected him, a man who has protected you at the risk of his life. You bind him; did you think he would not go freely? Did you fear his fangs? Do you fear a wandless wizard?" I stretched out my hands, showing them that I too was unarmed. I gave the red robed aurors a judging look. They twitched forward, perhaps seeing a greater prize in my arrest. "Ah, you remember I am a fugitive. I thought you might." I waited and fingered the scar at my neck; reminding them of a failure of theirs, and daring them. "I suggest you release this man." I made the last a threat.

"No, child," the third auror sneered, or tried to, his fear showed a little. Kenelm hissed a little, swaying as if he were fighting a snake. The auror snatched my wrist, clapping a set of handcuffs around the bone thin joint. He twisted, rolling me into his grip, hand over my mouth, strength ready, waiting to snap my neck if he chose.

I rolled my eyes, staring at my double sagging limp in his grip, melting already like wax in the sun. I let my doppelganger dissipate. "I think we will be going now. I have been tried once already and do not intend to stand trial for the same crimes. If you cannot charge this man, release him." I knew they could, with false evidence maybe, but they made no move to do either so I gave them a shove in the right direction.

* * *

My ropes dropped to the floor and havoc broke. I was amazed by how civil Harry had been, I had seen other episodes that involved him and the aurors, swift violent affairs that he always won. I was pretty sure that every ego in the force had tried himself against Harry. I had learned just by watching that he was not to be trifled with. But perhaps that was the difference. Two of the aurors still had a grip on me that my strength could not shake. I twisted weakly but to no avail. I noticed then what Dumbledore was doing; he had taken a sip out of a goblet, grimaced and picked up a wand that was too pale to belong to Albus, started to cast a spell. Polyjuice. The thought pounded hard against me.

"Harry, it's not him, it's not Albus."

Harry swirled, arms flinging wide, the aurors that had been attacking him pushed back though they strained against the barrier, looking like they walked head first into a blistering wind. The man under polyjuice shrank a little, lost white hair and beard, and became a little darker of skin. His face was not familiar to me; aged, but in the fashion of being used too hard. He did not appear new to the business of secrecy or of being discovered, but the sudden loss of a disguise that should have lasted another hour sent him floundering. He raised his hand; I could see the tremor of it. His eyes darted at the two aurors still flanking me; a signal I thought. I found myself released as they lounged forward. Harry gave an irritated shrug of his shoulders and the two found themselves tossed harshly against the bookcases that lined the office.

"I'm guessing Dumbledore has been arrested. He was not so willing to assist the Department of Law Enforcement as you had hoped. I know what trick you were hoping would fell me at last. You were almost clever enough and I will not deny that if Dumbledore had been willing it might have. I will warn you not to try it again; I'll never again trust that appearances show the truth."

Harry led us into the corridor, Draco at my elbow, and try as I might to reach our destination without needing his support I could not. When I stumbled I found a cane suddenly in my hand. Despite myself I found a growing respect for Harry's heart. I had always counted it as a Gryffindor's heart; full of arrogance, compassionate maybe but wanting to make sure the whole world knew their generosity. Harry was not like that, had he been he would have handed me the cane instead of the stick appearing in my hand as if I had carried it all the way. It was a subtle difference, but one that spoke to me; for kindness shown to me had always been from pity. One other had shown me that consideration even when it earned her scorn.

The stress of walking begged the question of why Harry had not transported us like he had before. I did not speak though all my breath used for following as quickly as I could. I didn't know where he could be heading; I guessed the rooms he shared with my godson and the others.

Eventually we came to a corridor that I rarely travelled; it provided no useful passage to anywhere I would want to go, though I remembered that occasionally when I was a student it had gotten me quickly from Charms to the ground floor when other more convenient passages were blocked by bored Gryffindors. We paused before one of the stranger portraits, trolls in tutus, a wizard using his wand like a conductor's baton waving it back and forth while the trolls bent their knees, and growled. I had a feeling he had not long survived after the portrait was painted. On the other side of the corridor a door seemed to make itself more and more noticeable, not unlike the way Harry seemed to slip in and out of focus as he chose. He opened the door, held it open while Draco and I entered then shut it. He did not bother setting a locking spell; I guess he would not have to.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement."

I had heard of the room, even knew that this was where Harry's defense group had met in secrecy two years ago. I grit my teeth remembering that toad of a woman, the one thing that had brought Minerva and me into a form of camaraderie. We stepped into a short hall with several doorways leading off into different rooms. Harry passed the first on the left stuck his head into the second and then entered the third. He looked over his shoulder at Draco, eyebrows arched in a suggestion I could not read. Draco nodded.

"Severus," he said, though I hardly heard. I was distracted by the way things shifted ever so slightly when I looked about. Every chair looked comfortable and I just wanted to sink into one. I did not let myself though and followed Draco.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please Review. Special thanks again to Dopey4Dobby and Bookworm, you are the reason chapters get uploaded as swiftly as they do._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	39. A Deal

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Thirty-Nine: A Deal

Harry strolled into the room where Tesla and I sat comparing notes on transfiguration. He and Draco had left ages ago to see Snape. Two figures passed in the hall the second could easily been a shadow of the first in the dim light but I recognized the stride of the potions master even if it was hindered by the use of a walking stick.

Harry fell into a chair, half collapse and half intention. He swung one knee over the arm and his foot kicked with an impatience he normally did not show. The movement was still graceful. Kenelm came out of his sling and Harry produced little marbles of magic that he directed lazily with one hand. The mongoose chased them in circles. His sister, Artemis, who had come with Tesla, watched imperiously from her perch on the arm of the sofa. I looked back at Harry; he shifted gently into a more reclined position, eyes closed.

"Harry," I said…

"I'll not go to sleep now, Neville." His hand continued the lazy guiding of the orbs. Kenelm caught one and it was replaced. They reminded me of the fairies in the rosebushes in the early summer.

"What's happened?"

"I should have guessed; the new Minister is less tolerant of vigilantes." He explained what had happened. "I suspect that we will get an official statement come dinner."

"I didn't think Dumbledore would allow them to arrest him. He did not during fifth year."

"It is indeed curious; politically he had to make a choice between protecting Snape and protecting his school. Since Snape can no longer be a spy there is nothing for Dumbledore to gain by protecting him." His eyes had not opened through the whole retelling.

"Harry, I'm sure Draco will give you some dreamless sleep potion…"

He did not answer; he was not asleep though. I stared at him knowing eventually he would have to answer; it was the one thing that could stir him, people staring.

"I'm fine, Neville." There was no irritation in his voice.

Sirius and Remus came into the room. As Remus passed Harry, he brushed the hair off Harry's forehead, like a parent checking for fever.

"I'm fine, Remus." Remus hand, already gone from his head, jerked in surprise. He had thought Harry asleep. Sirius and Remus sat down on the other sofa both watching Harry carefully. If we didn't stop bothering him about it though he would pull his trick of invisibility; he had done that once and during that time we couldn't go with in arms reach of his chair. He was too stubborn for his own good. Tesla touched my arm. I jumped but all she wanted was something about my transfiguration notes. While she was part of our group in some ways she was very careful to stay out of affairs she had not been invited into, it seemed that she considered Harry's health such a subject.

Draco came into the room, looked at Harry, opened his mouth to speak, glanced at me and decided not to. 'Wise,' I thought. Draco took the other arm chair.

"What do you think about the Aurors impersonating Dumbledore like they did?"

"I don't know. Risky, and since they did not succeed it appears like a desperate attempt to arrest us. I don't think I would be shocked if the ministry sought all of our arrests now. We have made no secret of our associations, and we have not been friendly to them."

I remembered several articles in the paper; I might wager that some feared us as much as Voldemort or at least as much as Death Eaters. Speculation about Harry's intent had circulated a dozen times each hinting that he was going to claim the position of dark lord from Voldemort. The idea was foolish in so many ways but if all you had ever seen of The-Boy-Who-Lived was the power he was now capable of, perhaps the conclusion was not so far-fetched. Harry would not do it of course, if only because he disdained leadership. In other ways he already led dark forces, already was a lord. He led a werewolf, a vampire and his blood-bonded, two fugitives (admittedly both innocent, or mostly) and was corrupting the other students close to him.

He still swung his foot idly; what he was impatient for I could not guess; dinner perhaps and hopefully the telling of the official story.

He had said Dumbledore had made a political choice to protect his school over a spy who had lost his cover. It was the only choice in a forced hand even at the ruination of a man's life. I had no doubt that it would be the ruin of Snape's life if the ministry had their way about the matter and it did not help that Snape's reputation made him a natural pick for Voldemort's army. I think I felt sorry for him.

* * *

My pen scratched idly across my paper as I scanned my Arithmancy text. Even with the invasion of ministry employees on Hogwarts grounds the professors had not lightened the load on the NEWT students. Now that Harry was refusing to carry on a conversation about today's events, the three of us still in class had returned to our desperate state of frantic studying. Neville and Tesla had their heads together scanning Neville's notes from last year about an integral concept. Tesla occasionally flicked her wand in miniature movements that mimicked the casting motions of animal-animal transformations. Her mongoose sat at her shoulder, a cold imperious white; so opposite her brother. Kenelm was resting in Harry's lap, head down but eyes open and wary. I was surprised that the creature had not bound itself as familiar to him. Harry was reclined across the chair. I shifted primly in my chair not realizing that I had done so or why until I glanced at Harry again. My mother would have had me strapped if I showed such disrespect to the furniture. I purposefully relaxed my posture, reminding myself carefully that there were no pretences here, that I was no longer under my mother's thumb. I was no longer the son of an aristocrat, no longer of a noble house. There were still echoes of shock when I thought about that, and with them my heart beat a little faster with the freedom from constraint. I refocused on my book; I had three more feet of parchment to fill before tomorrow. But thirty minutes later when Harry got up to leave I had only written a few more lines.

* * *

I stood carefully, disturbing Kenelm as little as possible. It did not matter because as soon as I had set him down he stirred and followed me down the hall. The room of requirement had changed itself on the arrival of the potions master. It was now set up much more like the dormitories our peers lived in. Our common rooms were clustered by the entrance but then the hall ran further into the magical space, leading to private quarters. Each resident was represented with a door to a space that accommodated their needs and wants. Neville had a small terrace, enclosed with glass and Draco had a potions lab. I guessed that now that Snape had joined us he too would have his own work space. Vox's room was small cozy and dim, even the flickering fire looked more like dying embers. There was another sitting room, and then my own door at the end of the hall. I rarely bothered going there though. This time I was looking for Snape, I had rightly guessed that Draco had insisted he rest rather than get worked up about something none of us had any control over. It was why I had waited so long to go back to see him. Draco had probably dosed him with enough potion to have him asleep for days, or any wizard without the tolerance he had for it. I knew how much he had wanted to talk to me. I didn't know how, though I suspected that as skilled at legilimens as he was and me highly sensitive to that magic he had been able to plant the notion in my head. It left only the question of whether he had intended to or not. It did not really matter. I knocked politely on the door.

A soft voice, not weak really but sounding unused to speaking, answered, "Come."

I stepped across the threshold. The only light was from the roaring fire and the only heat too. Outside the sphere of light it felt like standing at the top of a snowy peak. Snape was sitting fully dressed in his black robes in a chair that was pushed as close to the fire as possible without alighting.

"Draco would usher you off to bed."

"Then it is good he did not come back with you." It was a tone I had not heard from him before, a fondness showed through in the warmth of the statement. "If he knew fully what happened during that time, he would just as likely send you to bed as well."

"He gave up doing that a long time ago." I was still standing by the doorway. Snape stood up still staring into the flickering blue flames, rested one arm on the mantle, and put his forehead against his wrist. I had never seen him so far outside of his rigid self-control, even when he was furious he was only his usual Gryffindor-terrifying-black-cloaked-doom. He looked as if he was a scarecrow finally taken off the wooden stake. I moved into the warmth of the fire and Snape stood straighter bringing back the remnants of his impervious disposition.

* * *

When Harry moved into the light I realized how broken I must look, standing bent above the dying fire, still roaring with blue magic but ebbing slowly. I stood up, frowning a little, I didn't like it when Draco saw me in this state, and I would not have Potter witness it as well. But I had wanted to talk to him.

"You know, I had supposed that Dumbledore had been arrested but thinking about it again I don't think that was the case. He would not have allowed it or they mightn't have dared; his position is too valuable for that. Too many people respect Dumbledore again, since he was right about Voldemort's return. What could they have threatened him with that would make him allow what they did? Did he know? Or was he detained while they carried out their parlor trick?"

I remained silent for several minutes and Harry was patient, standing stock still, golden mongoose perched on one shoulder. I thought the creature would be heavy, at least too heavy to allow that, but Harry showed no sign of it. Of course he would not; to him the creature probably weighed no more than a butterfly might.

"It hardly makes any difference now. He will not protect me and sacrifice his school or his standing."

"Dumbledore really does consider it his school, doesn't he?" Harry mused. "No, he will not at that, whatever has happened he will not, 'cannot,' he would say."

"You are being rather unfair to him." I didn't know why I was chiding him; I felt as much outrage at the betrayal as anything. But I had to remind myself that my purpose was over, and as much power as Dumbledore might have, the ministry could overrule him.

"I might be," he conceded. "His actions have been foolish sometimes, forgetting that people are as likely to risk their lives as save their skins. He lost a lot when Voldemort found out that you were his spy."

"You always knew as much about what was going on as I did."

"No, Snape, I didn't, I knew after, he can block me out, or push things on me, and I am as helpless as a first year."

'You weren't helpless as a first year.' I thought, though I think I would have fallen dead of embarrassment had I said it out loud. I didn't know why the hostility that had defined our relationship had disappeared so suddenly but I was already thinking about him like I thought of my godson. They were very much alike. Stubborn, compassionate, and competent. "I know a lot of things about the Dark Lord, his followers, his weaknesses. I offer that knowledge to you, and my services." I found my mouth was saying it before my mind had understood what I was offering.

"For a price of course," he said shrewdly.

"I'm no Gryffindor," though in actuality I would have given my knowledge freely.

"Deal." He had made no terms but I suspected in the end I would owe him more than I had ever owed anyone.


	40. Persons of Interest

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty: Persons-of-Interest

Tesla and I were the only ones to go down to the Great Hall for the purpose of eating; and only Harry and Remus came with us. Draco had stayed to make sure his godfather went to bed; I was under the impression that Snape was as stubborn as Harry when it came to things like that. Draco staying meant Vox did as well though he tended to remain aloof of the goings on, not that he always could, what with the company he kept.

It also seemed that we could never pass a quiet time in the halls now. Harry had stopped disguising us on most occasions and I felt even if he hadn't the whispers would still be the same. And if we were not stopped by Law Enforcement Wizards, then the students did not keep their voices to a whisper, or their wands confined to their pockets.

"Helped Snape escape, I told you Snape was a Death Eater. Damned obvious the way he treated the Slytherins as above everybody else…"

"I hear they all are Death Eaters now…"

"I mean to say, Lupin is a werewolf, and they've sided with Him now…"

"Did you see Potter duel with those aurors in the courtyard? Bloody brilliant…"

I remembered that day. It had only been a week ago, though the last few days that actually felt like months. We had been dismissed early again from Herbology and gone to enjoy the courtyard while the sun was visiting from behind the thick cloud cover. Normally Draco would have had us in the library, but none of us could stand missing the sun. Those brief moments seemed to be the only ones that brought any hope with them. We had stopped and arrayed ourselves on the warming stone benches. Our peace had been short lived.

I wasn't sure what had started it, at the time I had my head laid in Tesla's lap, with only a faint blush for once, and my eyes were closed. Tesla had gasped and tensed. By the time I had straightened and found the source of distress Harry was already confronting the ministry officials. There had been three of them, two in red and one in grey. They were across the courtyard, though there was no sign of the disturbance that had made Harry go over there. Now they were faced off across the cobbles. One of them said something but across the distance it was not clear. Perhaps a recital of his list of crimes. It was then that they started moving. They cast a few spells at Harry, who crossed his arms and gave them a look that should have told them is was better to quit while they were not too far behind. One pulled something silver from his pocket and approached a motionless Harry. He made every attempt at grabbing his arm but his hand would only slide through Harry's skin.

Harry spoke, his voice carrying like ringing crystal across the space, "Previous attempts have failed, I suggest you turn your efforts to more promising issues. No one of you can touch me."

The auror had his wand pointed in Harry's face. Light burst from its tip; it washed over Harry like water. Harry had not flinched. A bucket of something considerably less pleasant broke over the head of the auror. In his splutters he dropped his wand which in an unfortunate turn ended up under his staggering feet and snapped. The auror's comrades moved to support him. The one wearing a hat was blinded by it as it clamped down over his eyes, nose, and ears. The other was suddenly half buried in stone that had become momentarily liquid. That more oo less put an end to the fight.

"Still no ordinary student…"

"My da says they are all dangerous…"

"I thought Dumbledore could control who lived in the castle…"

"Yeah, maybe he wants them here,"

"He never made secret his disagreements with the ministry,"

"Needs a new potions professor…"

"You think the ministry will appoint someone"

"Bloody traitor…"

I looked around for the last voice, trying to figure out the context. But with dinner so close the halls were crowded, and while we were not pushed down the hall, everyone else flowed down the halls like they were caught in rapids.

Harry was walking a few steps behind me with Remus trailing behind him. Both seemed to ignore the surrounding students.

I had my wand out in one swift motion, looking for the culprit. Light had flashed from somewhere on our left as we exited the staircase onto the second floor. Harry allowed the spell to hit him as he usually did, unwilling to bother with a defense, at least a visual one. Tesla had shifted onto her toes; her familiar had her teeth bared. Both looked ferocious and only when I saw the glint in Tesla's eyes did I remember she did not carry a shield like the rest of us did.

"Come on, Neville, he'll be long gone by now." Harry's voice was quiet. I nodded but did not put my wand away. That was one of the new rules; students were supposed to keep their wands away except during practical lessons. Harry of course had no need of a wand but he sometimes kept one in his hand. I suspect it was another jab at how powerless the law enforcement was against him, or maybe it was a demonstration of how pointless the law was, after all, it had not culled the number of fights in the corridors.

* * *

We entered the Great Hall for dinner and as usual there was already food on the tables, but I suspected that if there was any announcement to be made it would be made to the greatest number of students possible. The tables were nearly full now, not like on feast days but near enough. I wasn't sure but I guessed the students felt more secure in the crowd, like a defense against the dark. We all sat down, including Remus, at the end of the nearest table, it happened to be Hufflepuff's, and waited. There were several uniformed wizards standing, hands folded, but looking impatient, at the side door. I conjured a cup of tea and sipped from it as the others served themselves dinner. The Hufflepuffs sitting closest to us tried to ignore us as best they could though they shot furtive glances in our direction. Most of the houses had learned to tolerate our presence even if they still felt it was a breach in some sort of long held code of conduct. Kenelm still rested on my shoulder, staring at his sister who was daintily eating off her mistress' plate.

Then Dumbledore stood and all eyes turned towards him. It was unusual enough for him to make an announcement, normally notices were given by heads of house not the headmaster himself, but it did happen a few times a year.

"There have been several events that have passed in the last few days. They concern your safety and here to explain is the Head of the Law Enforcement branch, and a few aurors." He politely clapped and gestured the men towards the center of the stage. A few of the students joined him but mostly there was just silence.

"Thank you Headmaster Dumbledore. Sonorus." Then in a voice that carried better. "As you all know the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took the ministry building several weeks ago and now the ministry is carrying out all services from Hogwarts grounds. Several ongoing investigations have come to a close or are nearing an end. We have reason to believe that there is a dangerous group of wizards and witches living among you and have already caused injury to you or your friends. Professor Dumbledore has acquiesced to our request to search the school for these fugitives." Remus snorted. "After dinner, we would request that you all return to your House common rooms. Also if you have any information regarding the whereabouts or doings of Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black, Neville Longbottom, Tesla Smith, or Vox Venterilli, we ask that you approach an officer with the information." There were murmurs at the inclusion of Sirius' name on the list but also an interesting mixture of fear and indifference at the notice itself. I had the feeling that they would be receiving a lot of useless information from the students. Neville set down his fork and pushed his plate away. It was the first time he had been included on a persons-of-interest list, at least publicly. I also noticed that Remus was notably absent from the list, I wondered if it was Dumbledore's protection keeping him off of it, desperation, because it was unlikely that he would be able to find another professor for the job.

* * *

The door to our living room opened and Neville, Tesla, and Remus entered looking a little wearier than when they had left. Harry's attitude was different, by contrast to the others he looked cheery; he dropped into a chair throwing a knee over an arm. I noticed that it was the seat closest to the fire.

"They are searching the castle; they seek all of us, except for Remus, intending to arrest us."

"It can't be said that it is unexpected," Severus said. He had refused to stay in his bed and rest and I discovered that he was almost as impossible to deal with as Harry. Harry at least I worried less about because I suspected he really did have endless wells of energy and magic to draw on. Severus however was just a man, and even with the extra protection magic leant to all of us, he could not go on like he insisted on doing.

"No, it cannot," Harry agreed easily.

"How easily can they find this room?"

"Find it? Easily. They would find it impossible to enter though and have we need to leave there are a thousand places that the exit could lead to."

Sirius spoke, "I don't think they will give up on this easily, they are very reluctant to back off on something that they have pledged to do, regardless of how stupid it might be." He knew exactly how true that was considering there was still a manhunt for him.

"You have to remember though that we are actually guilty of the accusations." I said.

"Yes we certainly are. But I, for one, do not intend to be arrested."

We all remained silent after that until one by one we sought our beds and sleep.

That night did not bring everyone a good night's rest. Nightmares that were already slipping from my memory had kept me restless. Severus had at least taken some dreamless sleep potion before turning in. We were running low and I had a feeling we would all be turning to it in the future so I started the base solution leaving it to simmer until it grew in strength. I was the second awake in the morning, though perhaps I was first if Harry had not slept. He was in very much the same position as when I had gone to bed the night before. He was staring at the fire, which was roaring, sending up sparks as the wood was consumed. It seemed that Harry was adding to it as it occasionally turned neon colors. Kenelm was asleep on in his lap, nose quivering.

Harry did not acknowledge me when I came in and even when I touched his arm he gave only a twitch of his shoulders as if repositioning a heavy burden. I decided to let him be.


	41. Voluntary Imprisonment

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-One: Voluntary Imprisonment

Later in the morning, though still early, Neville and Tesla had come into the room, both were acting very shy towards each other, I ignored it deciding to kindly not tease them. Vox joined us not too much later a slight smile on his lips and sly glances at the other two. I ignored that too, still trying to finish the essay that was due this afternoon.

Then Harry sighed, "I wouldn't worry about that right now, Draco. They cancelled classes for today. All assignments due are to be turned in at the next class period." He held out a crumpled piece of paper in my direction. "You should have a look at this."

I set down my quill and rubbed feeling back into my cramped hand. I took the heavy parchment from him and smoothed it out.

_Dear Harry,_

_First I wish to tell you that classes are cancelled for today, and assignments are due during the next class period. Secondly, the aurors searched the castle for you, Draco, Neville, Severus, Sirius, Vox and Tesla. They know where the room of requirement is and have posted guards outside its door. Also they have taken Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna for questioning and I know they also seek Fred and George. I regret that I can give no aid and only this information. They are not negotiating with anyone. It seems that the terms of their release hinge on you turning yourself over to the aurors. I urge you not to do this, they will not harm your friends, and it is likely that even if you do they will be arrested on their own small crimes that the Ministry has uncovered. Please it is vital that you remain free to fight Voldemort, he can only gain ground if you are detained._

_My regrets; this is a portkey meant to bring you to my office,_

_Albus_

I handed it across to the others. "What do you plan to do?"

"I don't know. I seem to be stuck now whichever way I turn. The only way I see clear is to turn myself in and have them go into hiding and then escape myself. I think Dumbledore has to cooperate with them, so he is no help. I was hoping Sirius would be awake by now." He looked irritated at his watch.

"Are you thinking about sending them to headquarters?" Neville asked.

"No, I was thinking Sirius would reclaim his house and I would request they carry on their studying there." There was a pause and Harry looked around at the door just as Sirius Black came into the room. "Good morning, Sirius," he said, brightly.

"That was rather like your mother, you know, and not very nice."

"Yes well it's already nine o'clock, besides I need your help."

I could only guess what Harry had done; neither was giving any more hints. Sirius sat down on the empty sofa and grudgingly sipped from the teacup that appeared before him. Harry gestured that the letter should be passed to him. Sirius read it over twice, and then snorted. "Plan?"

"Your house?"

"Order."

"Yours"

"True."

"Well?"

"Okay,"

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome,"

Clearly they were well acquainted with the other's thought process, though that made the conversation fleeting and confusing to anyone present for it.

Harry's jaw tightened. Then he stood up, he looked like a griffin ready to spring, all energy and coiled up just waiting to be undammed. "How soon?"

"Well it would be polite to let Dumbledore remove his presence from the house… But as master and key holder I can force him out in a matter of hours."

"No need to make enemies, give him until tomorrow, I think. Honestly, they can stay, as far as I'm concerned, so long as the ministry does not know that that is where they are hiding. It's your house…"

"It's as much yours." Harry smiled sadly at that.

They did not speak anymore, only Sirius went about quickly as if acting on a long agreed-upon plan. Then they both left, leaving the four of us rather shocked by the swiftness.

* * *

I sat behind my desk, carefully not noticing the looks directed my way. I sucked on a lemon drop hoping that I was achieving the look of senility I wanted. I had sent the port-key note to Harry hours ago. I hoped the warning at the bottom was enough. I studied the group of aurors lining the room. Even they would not be enough I thought against Harry. A knock came at the door. I looked for confirmation from the man that was in charge. He nodded.

"Come," I said, hoping dearly that it was not Harry.

The door swung open and whatever I was expecting it was not what was there. A large black dog came trotting in looking too much like the grim for anyone in the room to really feel comfortable, and clinging to its withers was a raven, wings half spread to maintain balance. All the aurors could do was stare at the pair. The dog came to my desk put its great front paws on the edge and deposited a slightly damp roll of parchment on the surface. It was the note I had sent to Harry, seal broken. Then the aurors were gone vanished out of the air, I wondered where they went.

The raven deserted his perch and the dog turned into Sirius Black.

"Professor," he started kindly. I looked pointedly at the bird. He looked back, a green sheen to his curious black eye.

"Harry, there is no need now,"

"There is need," Sirius said. "How swiftly do you think he can get me out of here?"

The question might have been rhetorical but I answered anyway. "Instantly, I am sure."

"Two minutes ago, the fact that I'm still here means that our conversation will go well, as I hope it does." His tense was careful, I knew what it was like speaking about time travel; it made even my head spin.

"What is it you wish to discuss?"

"My house and Harry's friends. Harry wishes them to leave the castle; he feels that while they are here the forces against him will not refrain from using that leverage again. As it is clear the ministry is certainly willing to do so. Thus it comes to my house; the order and the Weasley's may stay with only the oath that the ministry will not discover their whereabouts."

"It would be wise that you all returned to that house."

"We disagree."

I looked at the bird, "I swear that while it is within my power they will not be used as leverage against you. Besides you know the Fidelius Charm has not been lifted." Harry gave a flip of his head at Sirius.

"Thank you, Albus, we are both glad that it was so easily agreed upon."

Then they were both gone. I had not liked what the ministry had done to those students. Especially with the intention of forcing Harry's actions, that was always dangerous, something I had learned several times over. Perhaps that was why I had agreed so readily. So now our dwindling numbers were reduced again. There were so few left…

* * *

The tents that the Ministry had erected looked like small buildings themselves, not the canvas that they truly were, and inside I sometimes forgot that I was standing under the roof of a temporary structure. The floors were tiled, black and white, checkered, with green and purple veins running through the stone. All the symbol of power we needed. I sat behind my own desk now and it too held a certain grandness to it. It was all show but it was a good show and that was what we needed. The desk was less impressive now with stacks of paper towering above its top. I shifted through a few of the ones that had just been handed over by the clerk; reports from the aurors that were questioning Potter's friends. I was disappointed that they had thus far been unsuccessful. I would have to see to it myself later. I had not exactly given up my station as head of the aurors, though officially I had been replaced. They would discover what it would be like to be questioned. That was for another time and really the information they gave was not that important, they were only the bait to get to Potter. I was not going to allow another fledgling Dark Lord grow to power on my watch, I could only hope that my predecessors had not let the hour become too late on that front. Potter already had allies in dangerous people. I looked down at his list of friends and associates. The only one that did not seem that dangerous was Ronald Weasley and maybe Hermione Granger was not. The others… Sirius Black stood out on the list, a known murderer; I thought it odd that Potter would take up with the man that had been responsible for his parents' deaths, but that was of little importance. Severus Snape was a known Death Eater, but had he switched to serve the next Dark Lord? Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, known blood-bonded to a Vampire and close friend to Potter. Also by his marks, he was good at potions and black magic likely as not. Vox Veratille, a vampire, I didn't need to consider that further. Neville Longbottom was a curious character in this. His parents had been aurors much like Potter's own but he had sworn his lot with Potter. Tesla Smith was of little importance, though she was a powerful witch by her marks in school thus far. Luna Lovegood was the daughter of the loony Xenophilius Lovegood. Then there were the other three Weasleys, Fred, George, and Ginny. The twins had Magic Sight if sources were to be believed and if not for the war I would have devoted men just to watching those two. They had already proven that they weren't afraid of a little anarchy, two years ago at Hogwarts was enough to prove that, though we couldn't prove that the swamp was their work and Dumbledore had not been cooperative at the time. Then there was the youngest in that family; Ginny had been touched by His memory. Dumbledore had not explained that matter either, and perhaps that was the most curious of all the others. I set the paper down signing off to prove I had read it. I picked up my cup and sipped it, glaring at the chair across from me. It was empty though I had an appointment for ten minutes ago, a spy I was expecting. Then the chair was not empty. I gagged on the tea that was suddenly and startlingly cold and fumbled the cup spilling the rest of it across my reports and sending it over the edge to smash on the tiles.

Potter lounged in the chair as carelessly as if he were a lord in his manor house. He was not in his uniform, but black robes and cloak, he wore boots that were fine but unpolished. In contrast his skin was white and his eyes the brightest green. He held my gaze easily and I felt like I was staring down a dragon. I had not seen Potter this close before. I think I understood now why my men had found it impossible to capture him. I broke the stare afraid that if I held it any longer I would be like a fool following the fairy lights into a bog. Already I knew I had given up what advantage my status might have brought me in whatever kind of confrontation was coming. I composed myself, muttered reparo at the broken cup and levitated it back onto my desk. Another wave of my wand cleaned and dried the papers I had stained. Then I looked back at the boy sitting across from me, and stood up just to add the touch of intimidation height might give me.

"Mr. Potter, I'm glad you agreed to turn yourself in."

"Yes, Minister, and you can sit down, I know how tall you are."

I grit my teeth. "I have been sitting all morning it is nice to stand." We stared at each other. I carefully kept my eyes focused on the bridge of his nose so that I didn't quite meet his eyes. I didn't really know how to proceed from here. Arresting his friends had really been a last ditch effort. I was sore about admitting it but it was true that we were not capable of dealing with Potter. Voldemort was a walk in the park compared to Potter. Every report of dealings with the boy spoke of magic no one had ever seen. And now… Here he was within my power, albeit by his own choice. I could not delude myself enough to think that he would not leave as easily as he arrived. "I beg your pardon Mr. Potter. Procedure requires other officials to be present. If you'll excuse me a moment…" It was a poor excuse to get away from his stare. I walked behind him to the doors and left, I was confident that he would still be there when I got back. I sent a messenger to the Law Enforcement division. Five minutes later a dozen aurors came trotting into the anti-chamber. Everyone understood what was going to happen. I gave a confirming nod to their leader, did an about face and reentered my office. Potter was still, he did not turn around to see who had entered. I felt intimidated again by his sheer confidence. Did he not fear us? Did he disdain us so much as to not even acknowledge our power? I started to doubt our plan. I strode to behind my desk and watched the aurors ring the room wands already out and aimed.

* * *

The Minister had left some time ago leaving me to await his return. I glanced over his desk and around the room, though there was little more than empty space and paperwork. Eventually the door opened again. I refused to look around and in but a few seconds the Minister of Magic had returned to his position behind his desk. A dozen red robed witches and wizards circled the space wands out and aimed. I put both hands up, empty, and my sleeves fell back to my elbows showing I had no hidden holster. Not there at least.

"As you can see I am unarmed." I said pleasantly, they still did not know that I could do all that I had without a wand, at least not for sure. They might know that I was capable of wandless magic but they could not suspect the true extent. The gesture and the words did not ease them. Their leader stepped forward. "Mr. Potter if you would please stand, keep your hands within sight, and make no fast movements." I complied, mildly and slowly enough to grate a tortoise with impatience. Two of the others stepped forward; one kept his wand pointed at my temple the other searched my person. I gave both cool looks and cooler when they performed several advanced revealing spells. When they were finished, my hands were brought behind my back roughly. I then recognized the man spelling my handcuffs.

"I am sorry about breaking your arm a month gone."

He growled and pulled a little tighter.

Then I was escorted out. I walked with them easily but I did see the rough side of their treatment. I had injured several of them in our hallway duels and now that I was submitting myself to their power they took the little revenge they could. It was never more than a shove though and had it been I might have struck out in return, which I'm sure they suspected. I was put in a cell and the door was locked with iron and magic. The cell was more a tall cage that stood in the center of the Law Enforcement division tent and everyone who passed could see me.

It was both interesting and very boring but I would not be here long even if the Ministry did not release them. It was a possibility that we had considered. Again my curiosity had won out and I had chosen to see what they would do if I actually turned myself in. We had discussed the plan after Sirius and I had been to see Dumbledore. Neville and Remus had been particularly against it and Draco resigned to the fact that they would not change my mind. Severus was also against it and where Neville had not convinced me, he almost had. Sirius it seemed had decided to just trust my judgment and went along with whatever I chose.

Several hours passed, my watch told me it was well into the afternoon hours when my friends, escorted by six aurors passed by me. They all looked worse for wear after the night in the holding cells. Ginny and Hermione gave short shrieks when they saw me and ran to the bars; Luna and Ron were not far behind them. They had not been told then that that was the exchange for their freedom or if they had then they didn't think I would agree.

"Harry! What are you doing?" They reached through the bars and Hermione snagged the collar of my shirt and pulled me closer to the bars.

"It's alright. We're just playing a game. I'll be fine, go now, Snuffles will take care of you." The aurors pulled them away and out of the Ministry tents.

_Author's Note: Well there we have it, another chapter. I hope you liked it and please review._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	42. Into Safety

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Two: Into Safety

The aurors left us outside the Ministry tents. They did not look so grand on the outside though the inside could have been in any normal building. Hermione was crying silently, so was Ginny; Luna only looked slightly perplexed. I pulled Hermione and Ginny into a hug. Ginny pulled away quickly and wiped her eyes, but Hermione shook with sobs. What was Harry doing?

"Come on Hermione, he'll be fine you'll see." I said, starting to walk towards the castle.

Luna spoke in her vacant voice. "It's curious but it was almost as if he has caged the rest of the world and he is the only one that stands outside."

I didn't see how that made any sense at all, but Hermione actually stopped her shuddering sobs and laughed. She sounded hysterical but she wasn't crying anymore. She dried her eyes.

"Oh, but no, you wouldn't understand…" She continued laughing and didn't explain. I looked at Ginny who was looking at Hermione with concern. Luna was completely unaware that she had said anything odd though that usually was the case. I led the way back to the castle but before we got to the doors a giant black dog came galloping out to meet us, less meet us as bounce up and try to knock us down. Sirius did calm down, and eventually started off in the direction of the whomping willow. We followed guessing that was what Harry wanted. Sirius remained a dog until we got all the way to the shrieking shack. Luna gave murmurs of surprise but was not at all fearful.

"How do you do, Mr. Black?"

Sirius laughed his face splitting in that wide smile. "Quite well, myself, though my godson has proved to be a vexing character. Did you see him?" He went from smiling to serious, and stared at me with such gravity that I felt saddened myself.

"We did. He is, as always, in control," said Ginny.

"That is well. Now he would very much like you to withdraw from Hogwarts and continue your studies at Grimmauld Place. The Order members are happy to teach you the rest of the year if necessary." Then seeing the scandalized look on Hermione's face he added, "you can take your tests at the end of the year, and the Library is the best of any of the wizarding families. The Blacks are an ancient family and we've collected more books than perhaps even Hogwarts. Though most of the ones we have would be in the restricted section."

"But my father…" it was the first sensible concern Luna had raised since I had met her.

"Don't worry Miss Lovegood, we well let him know."

We all apparated to outside the door of Grimmauld Place; Ginny with me and Luna with Sirius. We trudged in hanging our cloaks on the pegs and trailing down into the kitchen. Mum was there cooking. She turned around and squealed to see her two youngest children. She hurried over to wrap us both in a hug that could only be called crushing. Then she kissed Sirius on the cheek. "Thank you."

"It was hardly my doing."

She seemed to remember the terms of our release, her momentary forgetfulness in the return of Ginny and me dissipating. "Oh Harry. Is he alright? This family owes him so much, each one of us." She was looking particularly at Ginny no doubt thinking of the bloody words on the wall during my second year. That was only the first time Harry had saved one of our number.

"He'll be fine, Mum," said Ginny though her voice was low and trembling. Mum hugged us both again. Worry about her adoptive son still obvious in her expression. There was nothing to be done but wait though. She ushered us out of the kitchen and up to the sitting room. Sirius bid farewell, said he would send word when Harry had left the Ministry, and left, leaving us to stare at each other blankly. I thought about our recent experience.

They had not done much to us.

They had entered our common room on the heels of Professor McGonagall and arrayed themselves behind her as she spoke.

"Please if each student would return to their bed and wait, this will be as short as possible."

We complied standing and marching up the twisted stairs to our respective years' room and remained on our beds until they came. My room felt empty, distinctly so now that the three of us were so subdued. I noticed how we each glanced over at first Harry's bed, his old bed; he had not slept there for a year now, and then Neville's, equally empty. It was strange both still had trunks at their feet though if any of us had cared to look we would have found them empty. Dean and Seamus moved a table between their beds and started a game of exploding snap. They offered to deal me in but I was not interested in playing. It felt like hours before McGonagall opened our door. The aurors came in.

"Gryffindor, boys, seventh year."

"Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Ronald Weasley," one of them read off a long coiled roll of parchment.

"You'll not find Harry or Neville here," said Dean boldly.

"Weasley," said the leader looking for the characteristic red-hair quickly. "Take him."

McGonagall's mouth became a thin line, "and what precisely are you charging him with?" Her tone on the word 'him' made it sound like they had taken other students. 'Please not Hermione or Ginny,' I thought.

They did not answer her but stepped forward and pulled me off my bed. What a fool I was, my wand was out of reach on my nightstand. I struggled against them but despite my height their strength was enough to wrench my arms behind my back and cuff them. They gave a perfunctory search of the room and trunks but since they knew Harry and Neville had not lived here for more than a year I think they held no hopes of finding anything. I was dragged out of the room and down the stairs. I resisted as best I could but it could only be a show. It seemed they had already searched the girls' rooms; Hermione and Ginny already stood in the common room both likewise handcuffed. One of the men standing next to Ginny had a black-eye and the other was twitching slightly in what I suspected was after-shocks of Ginny's very special bat-bogey hex. Hermione's captor's while not showing obvious signs did have the slight look of satisfaction that indicated a fight hard won and barely at that. Hermione of course had not used spells with lasting effects; that was Hermione. I felt all the more foolish seeing the signs of their attempts at escape when I had not even had my wand.

We had then exited the house dormitory without McGonagall and been taken down to the entrance hall where we met with Luna and several more Ministry wizards. She had her vacant pondering look and I had to wonder if she even knew her hands were tied. I wondered if she had put up a struggle when they had taken her. They didn't look like she had. We were led out of the castle and down to the Ministry tents. We travelled in what seemed like a formation. The four of us in a bunch the Ministry wizards surrounding us in a ring though they each seemed to be assigned to one of us in case we made a break for it. Ginny was tilting her chin towards the trees and giving me significant looks. She was walking a little behind me so I made a fist as if holding a wand and flicked my wrist; asking if she had her wand. She frowned and shook her head sadly. It was tempting anyway; but without our wands and with our hands tied it would be fruitless. We entered the Ministry and were jailed but then they left us to ourselves.

"They probably have listening devices, we shouldn't speak," Hermione promptly warned us.

Ginny folded her arms and leaned against the door, as if her constant weight against it would break it down. Luna looked at home in the cell. She pulled a pair of crazy spectacles off her head and sat with her hands before her as if she were reading a book. Hermione spent energy pacing up and down and I just sat there. The hour grew late, and then later. Eventually the sun set and we were left with a guard but no comfort. Eventually we all collapsed in a row and leaned on each other in sleep. I woke with my arm around Hermione, who was curled with her head pressed into the hollow of my shoulder, Ginny against my other shoulder, a sore backside and the tingling sensation of a limb asleep. Luna was leaning against the other side of Ginny and looked much the same as she did awake. It was not long before the others were roused; I was taken from the cell, though it was more of just a room than a cell, and taken to sit behind a table in another. A wizard of my father's age came in and asked me questions. Most were related to Harry much as I expected, but the ones that weren't surprised me.

"Where did Fred and George Weasley go?"

That question after I had not answered the ones about Harry, shocked me to a stuttering statement, "I don't know."

After that slip I went back to my silence, which seemed to work well enough, they eventually returned me to the cell. I was the only one in there; evidently they had taken the others out for questioning as well. Luna was the first one shoved back through the door and then Hermione and last, more than an hour later, Ginny walked through, twirled made a rude gesture at the door, then sat down crossly.

"Do you know why they have us?" Her voice sounded at the edge of rage. "They have us because they think that it will lure Harry into their clutches." She stormed back and forth across the floor, hands trembling. If she had her wand she would have been cursing things. She sat down, crossed her arms, and glared at the door; I wouldn't have been surprised if it had caught fire. I guessed about an hour later the door was unlocked and opened. We were led out into the main room. There was an iron enclosure that I did not remember standing in the center of the floor. In it stood a young man, cloaked in black, with black hair and though he was not facing us his stance could belong to no one but Harry. The girls noticed and Hermione and Ginny ran to the bars. Hermione reached through and grasped his collar.

Harry! What are you doing?"

"It's alright. We're just playing a game. I'll be fine, go now, Snuffles will take care of you."

He sounded crazy. I don't know why I thought that, something about the way he looked around the room. He had given up his freedom for us. I guess not really, only in show, he could choose not to be here at all if that was his whim, and it wouldn't be a wish, it would be. I looked him up and down before we were pulled away. He looked like a prince, proud and confident. He owned the cage, not they.

Then suddenly we were out in the sunshine.

_Author's Note: Please Review._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	43. Swan Dive

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Three: Swan Dive

I looked at my watch again. It was late afternoon now, and while people had passed back and forth no one had spoken to me. I did see glee in the eyes of some people. Since the ministry did not seem to be interested in me I decided it was time to take me off their hands. Sirius would have had my friends at headquarters for hours now and the rest, back in the Room of Requirement, would have worn foot paths across the floor by their pacing. I waited for a large group of people to be passing by and then I swung the door open and left. When it seemed that I had caused enough of a stir I disappeared and reappeared in the hall of the room of requirement. I entered the common room, and found myself nearly suffocating in Remus' embrace.

"I'm just fine." I fixed Sirius with a stare, "they are alright? I did not get to see them long."

"No worse for wear, and safe now."

"Has anyone heard from the twins?"

"No," said several of them at once.

Everyone that now called the Room of Requirement home was assembled in the room, but I wasn't sure what to say to them. So I didn't speak but left the room and headed for my own chamber. I wasn't sure where the door would lead, I doubted it would show me to bed and sleep, that was not what I wanted, but what it might show me left a hundred possibilities. I turned the knob slowly deliberately. It emptied onto a terrace that seemed equal in height to the astronomy tower. The sun was still in the sky, barely, but the temperature was dropping towards nighttime lows. I touched two of the stones on the cuff on my ear; muffled voices sounded in my head but it was cut short.

"Harry?" It was not one voice but two that spoke my name.

"Are you alright?" I asked. I knew their siblings to be safe, but they had gone with no trace according to what could be discovered by anyone I knew how to deal with.

"Just great, Ministry finally left an hour ago…

"Didn't think they were ever going to leave."

"You're still in Hogsmeade then?"

"Yes sir," said George, at least I thought it was George.

"They aren't going to leave you alone for long. They want you as much as they want me."

"Well, they can't have us," said the voice I labeled Fred.

There was silence for several minutes.

"We heard they had you locked up…"

"It was rather more like I choose to sit in their cell for a few hours. They're really very comfortable." There was laughter from them. "Your brother and sister are safe. They're staying at Sirius' place."

"Ginny'll hate that, what with mum hovering over her."

"She's still mad at us…

"Dad doesn't know if she'll ever get over it…

"we saw him in the pub just a couple days ago…

"We've kept our presence in Hogsmeade pretty quiet…

"We're only inventing right now, the shop isn't open…

"I'm sorry about your mum."

"No need for you to feel guilty about it." George's voice sounded chipper at least, though Fred's "yeah well…" sounded a little bitter.

"I thought they searched your flat, where were you?"

"Ah that's another bit of handiness."

"Modeled after the Room of Requirement, a little different, but you get the idea. You should come have a look at it."

"We're all staying low for the time being, later in the week, okay?"

"Alright, see you then, Harry," said Fred.

"Bye."

I wondered if that's what talking on the telephone was like; I'd never done it, especially after the episode when Ron had called and my uncle had answered. It was kind of uncomfortable. I dropped my hand from my ear.

I guess the room really did know what was required. I didn't want anything more than to be outside. I must have stood there for hours because when I looked again the sun had risen though it was hard to tell with the cloud cover that had moved over the mountains. The grayness of the day and its cold breeze made me think of sleet. The sun was still fighting, and occasionally a stark beam made it to the ground. I looked out over the trees; indistinct black creatures leapt out of the canopy of the forest. For some reason the thestrals made me feel uneasy. Maybe it made me think that if not for Voldemort I wouldn't have seen death yet. I wouldn't know them; they'd only be some invisible shape with hot breath that Hagrid had shown his class. I sighed; there was no point in thinking about those ifs. I had to deal with now. The door opened behind me.

"I guess I should have expected this."

"Expected what?" I asked of Draco.

* * *

'No, of course he wouldn't understand what I meant.' I looked around at the small space. It was the same grey as the rest of the castle. The balustrade was a little more finely carved and the topping rail was as wide as two hand spans, and Harry was standing on top of it, arms spread. "I was saying I should have expected that all you wanted from your quarters was this, no bed, no comfort. It just makes sense."

"Hmm, if you say so," Harry leaned forward, not even sparing a look towards the ground.

I did; and the distance seemed to be much further than it should be if we were on the seventh floor. My hand went to my pocket and I removed some calming draught and took a swallow of it. I looked up at him. The wind was billowing around him taking his cloak. "So are you swan-diving today?" I'm not sure what brought the morbid question to my lips but the way he looked up there on the railing, so decided.

"I don't think I could kill myself if I wanted to. And I don't want to. Besides I'm pretty sure this is the only chance I get. I've fought too hard to even live this long." He did look down then. "You shouldn't use so much of that potion." It was that kind of remark that always startled me. I had thought he was not watching. "Severus said in class that it can start doing more harm than good, loses potency after a while too." I looked up at him. He lowered his arms and looked back at me. "I do pay attention in Potions you know."

I decided to ignore the statement. Harry sat down on the railing legs hanging above the drop. "Do you ever just want to fly away?" I asked, I had always wondered that even when we were enemies.

"Sometimes, don't you? I just can't; I like it here, I like this castle, these grounds. I want to be here and it brings me enough joy to outweigh all the other pains that might come. I would do anything to remain here." He suddenly seemed fainter, as if made of mist. It was gone as soon as it came but it gave the impression that he was more a part of the air than of flesh.

"What are we going to do?"

He fixed me with a very curious stare. "I don't know, we'll see what comes and we'll face it. Like we always have."

That was comforting enough. I folded my arms on the railing; leaned into it. I stared out at the grounds, avoiding looking straight down. The ground looked snowy with all the tents fastened in rows. It had not snowed yet, though it was already November and we normally had seen some by now. I wondered what they would do when it did snow. The heaviest snows would bury those tents. We were already crowded in the castle. Every spare room held several people in makeshift apartments, of course magic made them significantly less makeshift than without. I was also under the impression that Hogwarts had created several more wings than could actually exist in the walls so as to house more people. I looked out beyond the grounds, the summits of the mountains surrounding Hogwarts were obscured in heavy, dark clouds. We were going to have snow and before the next full moon. I looked at Harry again; he seemed to be oblivious to the world, chin tucked into his chest staring down at the courtyard so far below us. Then my gaze drifted back out towards the mountains.

Harry pushed himself off the ledge and went plummeting down. A yell was halfway out of my lips before I saw his shape condense, not with distance but into what I thought was a raven, so black it seemed to pull the grey light of today into it. He flew back up cuffed my shoulder with the tip of a wing and climbed higher. I saw then his neck was longer, his body heavier but more graceful, a swan; I had said 'swan dive' after all. I closed my eyes trying to calm a pounding heart. When I opened them, my vision was sharper my hearing better above the howling of the wind. The hawk was not so natural a shape as the stallion but with all the months of practice it was easy enough. I imagined all the shapes Harry assumed were as natural as breathing to him. I launched myself from the balcony and chased Harry upwards. We went up and up until we were above the clouds and I thought we would find ourselves amongst the stars. I had caught him easily, I was the faster bird and I don't think he was interested in racing today. We hovered in a lazy circle. I thought the wind must have blown us far away from the castle on our ascent. Harry folded his wings and dove. I followed; all the memories of quidditch flooding back in a whirl of colors. I stopped on the roof, happy enough with the length of that thrilling descent but Harry fell on. I bet he went all the way to the cold flagstone in the courtyard and didn't pull out until he had to or crash. That was more nerves than I had, and that was why he had always won at quidditch. The swan came flapping back to the balcony and perched itself on the ledge, turned to human shape. It was as if Harry had not ever shifted from his place. I hopped down and transformed.

"That was a pretty dive you did," he said.

I frowned, "yours was better, they always were."

"Mine?" It was a true question. He did not think he had moved.

"Nevermind," I said and found that he was happy enough to drop the subject as well. I turned and left him out in the howling wind.


	44. Captured

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Four: Captured

It did snow and much more than I thought; only the peaks of the ministry tents stuck out of the snow. That meant eight feet with drifts higher. I thought magic might have magnified the storm; it always seemed a little deeper inside the grounds than outside. Remus already had that slight agitation that was common right before the full moon. He had taken all the doses of Wolfsbane Snape had provided and now late into the evening we had only to wait a little longer. Harry was curled into the chair closest to the fire again, Draco was writing with Vox leaning casually against his shoulder, Tesla was reading propped up on the arm of the sofa, Snape, Sirius and Remus were not in the room. I felt like I was the only one that was nervous about tonight. It was the first time we had been out after the Ministry had declared us as fugitives, and I was suspicious that they expected us to leave the castle tonight. I calmed myself; remembering we had crossed wands with them before and come out unscathed, and that was when Harry was not with us. I had the feeling that Harry's confidence that nothing would happen might very well prevent it from doing so even if we walked into a set trap.

I sat down at the other end of the sofa from Tesla. She was frowning at her book. She of course knew she could not go with us and that meant she would be left alone with the taciturn potions master for company. I had offered to stay but she had insisted that I go. She did ask questions about becoming an Animagus and I had told her all I knew of it. That had seemed to satisfy her; I was sure she was going to spend all evening and well into the night working on the transformation.

Harry stirred, pulling out an old looking piece of parchment and unfolding it with loving care. He whispered something to it and lines started to draw themselves out.

He stood, "Come on, it's best we go now. The halls are empty all the way to the north courtyard; we can climb the hill and leave the grounds in the hills above Hogsmeade." He left the room and returned with Sirius and Remus on his heels. Remus was looking more and more haggard, though with it he was gaining a wolfish grace. Tesla stood and kissed me lightly on the cheek, bidding us a pleasant night, I felt the blush in my face. We filed out the door and into a corridor on the third floor. The door disappeared behind us and I knew at the end of the night we would have to go back to the proper entrance on the seventh floor and likely deal with whatever guard stood in our hallway. That was hardly a matter of concern for us now. We'd risk more than that for these freeing hours.

It was not long before we were slipping out on the north side of the castle. The snow towered well above our heads but with a little magic we were all able to walk on its surface without sinking past our knees. The sun was leaving the cloudless sky and the full moon would rise not long after. Those of us who were Animagi took our forms. We reached the trees shortly, already finding the little liberation of the cold breeze; the danger we all knew made it all the sweeter. Under the canopy of bare branches the snow was not so deep. Harry and Sirius were shadows under the trees, though Draco was as startlingly white as a unicorn. I imagined that I was equally stark, the silver of my fur catching the light that bounced off the snow. Remus and Vox strolled along. We made it to the top of the cliff and through an iron gate. I guessed we were now outside the castle grounds though I had never been this way myself. Only a few minutes later the moon rose and Remus transformed. He seemed to standout the most of any of us; his tawny coat matched neither snow nor shadow. Vox walked lazily onward as if there was not a threat at his back. For him there really was not, he was protected somehow though he had never satisfactorily explained it. Draco followed him, forehead pressed against his shoulder. We split into two groups, the blood-bonded pair headed farther up into the hills and the rest of us ran east. We passed the path into Hogsmeade and then we were just running, across the fields and through the trees.

* * *

Soon enough the others were out of sight among the distant line of trees; the four bouncing through snow that came to their bellies. Draco and I hiked higher and higher into the mountains. No one would come up here, not on a full moon. At the top of another steep hill we stopped. The trees had become sparse, there was only one here at the top and the view under the light of the moon showed us the expanse of the castle and all the way to the mountains that in the night were no more than dark ragged shapes against the starry sky. From here we could see none of the tents and perhaps we could pretend that this war was not happening. Draco transformed back now that we were out of the company of the werewolf and we could not be snuck up on by another lycanthrope. He pulled out his wand and dried a spot between the roots of the old tree and sat down with a careless grace. I remained standing; the Room of Requirement provided all the blood I could drink but I could not help but enjoy the hunt when the opportunity arose. I expected there to be some deer around.

* * *

I sat down with my back against the rough trunk of the tree. Vox did not join me but stood slightly lower on the slope of the hill. He looked into the trees, tense, building energy just waiting to spring forward. He looked like a statue. It was ages before he moved and then he was down the hill and into the trees before I realized it. He had likely caught something moving that fast. He'd be back to me in a few minutes. He never drained the animals of life; he preferred to hunt several times rather than kill one. His brothers were not so caring. I fiddled with my wand. It was proof of my wizarding childhood. Full moons made us very nervous and while I was out when others would be behind locked doors I was not so easy as to return my wand to my pocket.

Everything was eerily quiet, the snow dampening all the normal sounds of a forest. I had to remind myself that even the animals hunkered down on full moons; just because they could not be infected did not mean they would not be eaten. That did not make me any easier in my mind, I wanted Vox to come back; his eyes were sharper than mine and his sense of smell. I grew more and more restless as the time passed; I knew it was likely not more than ten minutes since he darted down the slope. I stood up and walked around the tree; my cloak became soaked at the bottom and then it froze crisply.

Lights shot out of the trees. I could not prepare a spell in time but the shield already in place was able to capture the magic well enough that I only staggered. I set a _protego charm_ for the next volley and then under that temporary protection started casting runes. My shield was only half finished when someone spoke behind me. They were closer than they should have been able to get without me noticing.

"Crucio," The voice tugged at memory before I was consumed by the pain of the spell. I stubbornly locked my knees refusing to collapse into the snow. I was losing the fight by the time the attackers had crested the hill and circled me. Another added to the incantation and I finally let go, setting my energy to staying sane instead of staying upright. The spell lifted, and I sprang to my left rolling towards what I perceived to be the weakest point in the circle. I brought my wand up in a sweeping arc, casting the single rune for fire. A whip of flame came flashing out of the end of my wand. The tip caught one of the dark shapes but I knew it had not done enough damage to incapacitate him. I switched the flame back and caught someone else, all the while seeking to break free of the circle. They cast minor hexes at me but each spell was caught by the invisible whirring pyramids. I backed up another step and ran into the heavy bulk of a much larger person. An arm wrapped all too easily around my shoulders and a quick movement from him plucked my precious wand from my hand. I wanted to cry at the loss of my only weapon.

"I got him," said the man squeezing the air out of my lungs. That voice was familiar too, Goyle Sr., I thought, or just as easily Crabbe Sr. I had never bothered to make much distinction between the two families.

Just then I found my escape route, I twisted under his elbow and made two staggering steps through the snow fully intent on taking wing. I was not fast enough, or perhaps the other was too quick but the man standing next to Goyle turned with a lazy movement and a hard object made contact with the base of my skull.

* * *

I made another struggle when I saw Draco collapse into the snow. He had fought well and I could see that in but another second he would have been his bird and been flying far away; his hair was already becoming feathers. All the twisting earned me was several more cuts around my throat and under my chin. I counted no less than five knives directed to do serious injury to me or as serious as could be done. There were also several wands pointed in my direction.

I had been bent over the helpless animal when I heard the noise. I had stood to find four other vampires closing in on me. Instinctively I reached for my knives. I threw two as soon as they were in my hands and then with the second pair I closed the distance and fought with one of them at close range. A second joined our fight. A shout had echoed through the trees and the two fell back in a rush of motion that left me open. A spinning glittering shape sliced open my hand forcing me to drop my own blade. With that distraction another knife pierced just under my collar bone. Both were so fast that I could only knock the third knife out of the air. By then, my attackers had closed the distance again; I slashed out with my good hand and scraped one of them across his face. My injured hand pulled out my longest dagger but my grip was weak on the hilt. I had been overconfident before, even disdainful of their skill, but now with the pain adding to my concentration rather than detracting from it, I was able to meet their attacks. My wounds were really only painful not draining, though both were preventing a full range of motion. I don't know how long the four fought against me but I had dispatched with two of them before wands were pointing in my direction. A rope wrapped firmly around my wrist at the top of a strike and though with an evading twist I had my other hand there to cut it I found that the binding was as hard as steel. I pulled hard against it and gained some slack but as soon as I went again to strike at the two vampires I was yanked harshly off balance. It was simple enough to regain my balance and in doing so I landed a hard kick to one of my opponent's jaws. Another bit of rope tied itself around my other wrist and a jerk, in the opposite direction of my momentum, flopped me onto my back in the snow. I rolled over my head and back to my knees. The third and fourth ropes attached to my ankle and just below my knee. They all tightened their grips; forcing me to drop both knives in spasms. The two tied to my legs tugged and I fell again. The two remaining vampires were at my throat before I could recover.

I was then tied, gagged, and escorted under knife and wand point to the base of the hill. I had found few chances of escape and tried each one, earning only more cuts and once a bought under the cruciatus curse. It had not stopped me looking, merely stopped the attempts.

A few more spells had Draco bound and floating upright though they had not wakened him. An object was forced into my hand then and a pull like a hook piercing my middle tugged me forward. We appeared in a stone paved hallway, beside two great carved doors. I had never seen this place which meant I had not been taken to my father's court, which meant I was very likely at the mercy of the dark lord. I was pushed roughly further down the hall and on our heels another trio of people appeared on the stone floor, one of them unconscious. They came down the corridor behind us and a third much larger group appeared at the entrance. A vicious looking witch walked over to Draco from the final group and leveled her wand at him. I lunged at her only to be shoved to the floor, my hands tied behind my back did no good to cushion the fall. The witch laughed at me.

"Enervate," she said. Draco's eyes opened.


	45. In Voldemort's Hands

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Five: In Voldemort's Hands

I opened my eyes. The hallway was dim and bleary after the blow to my head, but that did not prevent me from knowing it as my own entrance hall. There was a black cloaked shape sprawled on the floor a few feet to my left.

"Vox," I said, I had so hoped that he had escaped them, but they must have captured him first. My arms were bound to my sides with heavy ropes and my wand was gone. Vox made a muffled noise, I guessed he was gagged.

"Get up," one of the burlier men growled, he could not have been a werewolf or else he would be transformed now. I rethought that, I didn't know how long I had been out; it could have been days since the full moon. When Vox did not the man kicked him in the ribs. I saw my blood-bonded's jaw clench. He struggled but with his hands tied… It was clearly longer than the man would wait, he kicked Vox several more times and I thought I heard a very faint crunch. I felt blood rush to my face with the rage that settled in my chest. He then bent and hauled Vox to his feet. The vampire did not look so bad. He was gagged though with cloth instead of spell and there was a long slash in his robes at his shoulder, and beneath his skin looked raw, I could not see in the light. There was not much blood but then vampires even when wounded did not bleed a lot, not like humans did. The man then punched him. I stepped forward in a quivering rage. There was a lighted burst and the ropes fell away as accidental magic flooded the area around me, righting the wrongs I felt. It was the first burst of accidental magic I had performed since I was four. My father and other Purebloods viewed accidental magic as a temper tantrum and punished such episodes harshly so I had learned to stopper my temper early. I snatched the wand from the burly man even as the wave of my magic swept outwards growing fainter as it travelled away from its source. The only major effect was that both Vox and I were now free from our bindings and the man had two red welts coming up across his face and I suspected two black eyes if someone did not fix them for him. Vox had two knives in his hands before I could blink. I was surprised, I would have thought that they would have searched him but either they hadn't or they had and had not found the concealed pair. I wondered not for the first time exactly how many the vampire carried. It was a brief thought because we were both quickly engaged in duels. I knocked out the man whose wand I had stolen; I was surprised but the wand worked almost as well as my own, perhaps the cores were similar because the wood was certainly not. That left only eleven other people. Four were vampires, and Vox had already knocked one to the ground. I shot an _expelliarmus _at another wizard. I was only attacked with minor spells and with the pyramids I was unharmed and was therefore able to protect Vox and myself from stronger enemy spells if not always steel. No cry was raised and in the beginning not all present joined the fight; I expected they felt they could deal with us, or perhaps they were that afraid of what the Dark Lord would say if a wizard barely in his majority and not even out of school was besting them.

I was not besting them, just holding out against them, and only occasionally landing a blow myself. I would have been recaptured long since if not for the twins' pyramids. It was then that I remembered the wards of the Malfoy Manor house. It would not work if I had been stricken from the family but I didn't think my father had done it yet. He would have wanted to punish my defiance first and then disgrace me. It was an ancient ward on the manor that made the objects of the house come to the defense of any Malfoy. I searched outwards and touched that warding. The house really did spring to life, rugs shuffled out from under feet, tables marched around tripping and stampeding over people, and best and most dangerous of all was the weapons that came off the walls and flung themselves at the Death Eaters. I was down to three wizards between my own magic and the ward that protected me.

It was then that at the top of the stair a figure appeared outlined in the glow from another room farther down the hallway. Everything stopped; weapons fled back to their hooks, rugs flattened themselves out and the tables sheepishly stopped moving. We all froze, Vox had been free with his knives and all but one of the vampires was on the floor and the one was struggling faintly in Vox's grasp. The three wizards stood still looking shamed. Several more figures came to the top of the stairs. That was the end of my ply for freedom. Someone lighted their wand at the top of the stairs and I could see the blond shine of my father's hair. The wand was summoned out of my hand and I was cast into ropes again with a dark hex that tried to squeeze the breath out of me. Vox was similarly tied. Several came down the stairs and started waking those who were not dead; two had been felled, most likely by the goblin axe that had come to life. We were unceremoniously dragged up the stairs and into an anti-chamber. We were untied, and Vox was searched for all his remaining knives. I and everyone was a little shocked at exactly how many more he had; There were three down each boot, another two strapped to the inside of his thigh, and no less than eight tiny, pin-like daggers cleverly concealed in his hair. It was the vampires that found those of course. I didn't really see how something so small could really do any significant damage, perhaps they were poisoned.

"Is this really what it takes to capture two teenagers?" I sneered. "I'm sure the Dark Lord is ever so pleased with all of you." My father cuffed me across the mouth, his signet ring slicing my lip. I refused to put my hand to my face.

"Manners," he said carelessly.

"I did not know that Malfoys showed respect to dogs and half-bloods." I put disgust into the words dogs and half-bloods. It earned me a spell under cruciatus that lasted minutes and when I had stood after it, another blow, this time splitting the skin just below my right eye. I grit my teeth.

"You'll not disgrace me this time. For you are to be nothing more than bait for Potter, and all bait has to be is useless and helpless, something you were always good at," his lip curled as if at a house-elf who had displeased him, it was a look most people reserved for nasty things on the soles of their shoes.

"Potter is a phantom. Voldemort can't touch him, you certainly can't."

I was casually back-handed again. Blood dripped down into one of my eyes. "Don't say his name."

Vox growled next to me. My father leveled his wand at him, "_crucio._" I stepped forward, looking as threatening as I could. My father smirked, having found my weak point and lifted his chin at two of the others in the room. They stirred gleefully and added to the curse. Vox twitched, mouth stubbornly closed against his screams. My blood boiled; heat brushing across my cheeks, my fingernails digging into my palms. Another joined in the casting. Vox cried out, back arched. I shook, and then my father screamed. It was a short yell, but he dropped his wand, cradling his wand hand to his chest. His fingers looked disjointed; had they broken? The others dropped their wands too. They all scrambled to retrieve them. I stooped to take my father's from the ground. It wouldn't do me much good, I already knew I was a poor match to it, but at least he could not have it then, maybe I would snap it. Before my fingers closed around the slim stick there was a line of cold pressed to my throat. I froze.

"That's right, don't move," said the silky voice of one of the vampires. I didn't. Slowly the blade pressured me into standing straight again.

Someone opened the door behind my father, whispered to him and left again. My father signaled to those standing around the room and they backed out including the one who had been threatening my throat. Then he opened the doors. I was pulled into the other room. It was a small circular space that I had rarely been allowed in as a child, but it had a high ceiling and a grandeur that the Dark Lord might find appealing. Really the whole house was grand, but this room in particular belonged more to a palace than the manor house.

A tall figure stood in the center of the ring of black robed Death Eaters, his back to us. We were shoved into the center by the spell that had dragged us in. The Dark Lord turned and looked at the two of us. His lips twitched upwards but then went back to neutral. His expression could only be described as delighted.

* * *

I had been uneasy about separating from Draco and Vox but really if anyone was capable of dealing with tonight's dangers they could. Harry had also seemed reluctant but had turned and leaped in galloping strides after Sirius and Remus. I followed still feeling as if something would happen to them. As we ran on the feeling went away and I put it down as paranoia, I could only worry so much while I was the fox.

We ran across the fields, Sirius and Remus bit at each others' heels and chased each other across the snow but Harry and I did not join in. Harry kept a cautious eye on the surroundings and seemed to urge us to move quickly across the open fields, shoulders crouched, head tilted to peer into the night sky. I made it my job to keep my eyes on the path behind us for anything that might be stalking our trail.

It was maybe two hours later at the edge of a copse of trees that something happened. Harry jumped over a fallen tree but it was as if he tripped because he somersaulted and ended sprawled on his back, human once more. He rolled over on hands and knees and retched. Then he sank forward so that his forehead rested in a patch of snow, eyes closed in a pained grimace. Sirius and Remus stopped; Sirius seemed to know that something had happened but even with the wolfsbane potion Remus did not. He moved forward but Sirius turned and chased him away, snapping his jaws. They ran as fast as they could away from us. I transformed.

Harry rocked back and forth one hand gripping a fold of his cloak over his heart. I took his shoulders and pulled him to a sitting position. His gaze was not the distant pained look I had expected to see, it was focused on me instead. He knew where he was, whatever Voldemort had felt it must have been short-lived or not lasting in potency.

"I knew," Harry muttered, "I knew and I couldn't protect them. I knew something was going to happen and because of that it did, if only I hadn't known, hadn't acknowledged it, hadn't…"

He gasped, his hand going to his scar, his other hand twisting harder into his cloak. It seemed like he wanted to pull out his heart. I took his wrist and wrapped his hand around mine. His grip was crushing. He may not have been consumed by a vision but he didn't appear capable of rational thought either. I gripped his arm tightly hoping he'd at least apparate with me if not by himself. I turned over my shoulder and into the basement of Honeyduke's. It was the closest I could get us to our rooms by apparation, he could do better, but not I with the wards still in place. I opened the trapdoor and pushed Harry gently down the ladder, and followed lowering the trapdoor silently. I pulled him down the tunnel but halfway there he stopped and sank to the ground. I felt his neck; it burned with fever, the same as when Snape had been in trouble. What had happened? The uneasiness from when Vox and Draco had separated from us came back. 'Merlin, no.'

"Harry, Harry look at me. It's not Draco and Vox is it? Tell me it's not them."

"I couldn't…"

I hauled him back to his feet. I didn't know what we could do but I was determined to get back to the Room of Requirement and Snape, unfortunately Sirius and Remus would not be back until dawn. I wished that they had found somewhere safe to hunker down for the night, a cave or something. We ran down the dark tunnel heedless of the danger, confident that our feet would not fail us. By the time we reached the statue of the witch with the hump, Harry had worked himself free of Voldemort's grasp though his hand still clutched at his heart. Now instead of me leading down the empty hallways it was Harry that stalked behind the roaming guards that were patrolling the night. As I expected when we reached the seventh floor corridor that led to our chambers there was a group of seven aurors posted. Each slouched with weariness but they still seemed wary enough. Before we fully turned the corner though, Harry collapsed to the floor, hand again pressing against his scar. I hesitated; there was no way I would get past seven aurors, not when it would be clear to them that Harry was vulnerable. I paced one step in each direction as if the movement would make my decision for me. Then I scooped him up in my arms, he was unsettlingly light, and I walked around the corner and straight towards the door hoping that need would open it before I got there. Seven wands were trained on me before I got three steps down the corridor. It was not that far. I drew myself up; I was tall enough that I should be intimidating, even while carrying someone else. I needed to get to our door; I had to. We were all surprised when the suits of armor that lined this hall, just like every other in the castle, stepped off their stands and escorted me. The aurors spooked and started firing spells and the armor stepped in front of me, the light bouncing off their shinning breastplates and against the stone walls where they soaked into Hogwarts, harmlessly. The aurors pressed back. The door, carved with herons, grew from the floor, and was just tall enough for me as I turned the handle and pushed inward.

The armor positioned itself in ranks before the door and froze as I swung it closed. I carried Harry into the sitting room and placed him in his chair. He stirred, sighed, staring into the fire. Tesla scared me when she touched my arm, I had not been aware of her approach, too focused on Harry.

"Neville, what happened?" she asked.

"I don't know for sure," and I left the room to find Snape. I knocked on his door. When he did not answer I opened it and stepped in. His room, in dark colors, was somber; the furniture more functional than comfortable, except for one chair that looked over-stuffed. Snape was in that chair, asleep.

"Professor?"

In one motion Snape was standing, glaring at me, wand pointed at my chest. "Longbottom, what is it?" He stuffed his wand back up his sleeve.

"It's Harry…" my tongue failed me. I didn't know how to explain that I thought his godson had been kidnapped by Death Eaters and that for some reason the Dark Lord was very happy.

Snape merely frowned and swept about his room pulling out vials of potions from corners I would never have looked in. Then he brushed past me and down the hall. By the time I had overcome my shock, he was already tending Harry. Harry however looked normal.

"Just drink this, Potter," Snape growled, forcing him to take a vial. He guided it to Harry's lips. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, but he did drink it, he wouldn't do the same for Draco.

* * *

I had found Harry in his preferred chair in our sitting room. I could not say it was his favorite chair, I didn't think he had favorites, things were the way they were, and if something did not please him, he either avoided it or it did not exist. I knelt gently beside him, tilted his chin so that I could look into his eyes. I didn't even need to shine a light in them; the effects of cruciatus were obvious in the fraying around his pupils. I sorted through my vials, found the one I wanted but when I uncapped it, he put his hand up clearly disdaining it. I pushed his hand out of the way, why was he always so childish?

"Just drink this, Potter." It came out as a growl. He sighed, rolled his eyes, but he must have decided that appeasement was easier than argument because he let me help him drink it.

His mouth turned down at the taste, I didn't feel sorry for him, he could make it taste like whatever he wanted. I used to have to stomach the stuff three or four times a week and without ruinous sugar to ease it down.

"You should know that that was a waste of a good potion," he said primly. Then I noticed the stack of photographs in his hands. I was sure they had not been there before; the face on the first one would have pulled my gaze to it. It was Draco, blood streaming down his face. I counted three cuts, one dangerously close to his eye. Blindness was one thing magic and potions could do very little about.

"What happened, Potter?"

"I don't know, and trust me it turns my stomach as much as yours." He flipped through the photos; I saw the figures of Draco and Vox in most of them. I thought if he had seen those things happen as if he were there, as if he had done them, as was often the case with his visions, then he would have more cause to be ill than I. I gently took the stack from him, and flipped through them slowly; it was clear enough that Harry didn't want to speak about it; perhaps he was trying to make the memories false. Draco had not really explained how Harry did magic, but it seemed to have everything to do with imagination. The first one was just of Draco; he had a stubborn set to his mouth and a slight squint in one eye from the blood. The next was of Vox; he was equally defiant, (I was guessing he was facing the Dark Lord, that was the point of view Harry's visions normally took,) but his shoulders were less straight, and there were rips visible in his black clothing where skin was visible and perhaps wounds. The next was of both of them. They stood with shoulders pressed together, jaws clenched; I watched the photo Draco take hold of Vox's wrist, it was then that I noticed that long slice along the vampire's hand, laying it open. The others brought back all the horror I had experienced in those meetings; torture of a kind unimaginable to those that had not seen it firsthand. I didn't know how anyone was still sane after meeting with the Dark Lord; admittedly some Death Eaters never had been. Was I still sane, resilient; I was after all sitting next to my school-days nemesis' son? That was for other reasons though, very selfish ones.

"What do you plan on doing, Harry?" I said, stiffly. Harry didn't speak immediately; instead he pulled the photos out of my hands and embers started to eat away one corner slowly consuming the paper all the way to his fingers.

"I can't undo it, but I am going to get them out. They are at Malfoy's Manor. It should be simple; Voldemort is done with them and as far as I can tell gone from the house." He stood, a cloak appearing around his shoulders.

"It will be a trap meant to snare you." I said warning him.

"It's always a trap," he said and then he apparated, quieter than moth wings when he of all people should have made a crack like thunder. I was still kneeling, stunned. Neville and Tesla seemed equally shocked.

* * *

We were tossed bodily into the temporary cell in the basement of the manor house. I rolled stiffly onto my back and wearily wiped the blood off my brow. I had wanted to keep my uncaring composure upstairs but now in the near darkness I didn't think it mattered. A shiver ran over me and I looked at the ceiling, how long had we been up there? Was it dawn yet? I didn't want to think about what had happened in that room. I shivered again and this time I couldn't blame the aftereffects of the curse.

Voldemort had not aimed his wand at either of us for some time; he had let my all too willing father conduct the torture. When he finally did I wished he hadn't. He had entered my mind; his presence was like ice slipped down your collar, but a hundred times worse and the pain like ten crucios layered on top of each other. Normally legilimens was supposed to be subtle and I knew Voldemort had an invisible touch but now he wanted me to know he was there. My body screamed at the unnaturalness of it; twitching trying so very hard to slip away, to melt into the floor. It still made my skin crawl. I didn't remember it having such an effect on me before even when the invader was being obvious, using brute force instead of subtlety; but before it had only ever been my father sifting through my memories. After seeing Vox under the same spell, my question was answered. He had squirmed worse than I; falling to his knees, hands clamped over his ears. 'It's a weakness, then.' Seeing him in that pain, had caused a third burst of accidental magic, as uncontrollable as wild fire. Voldemort must have sensed it because he had shielded himself and blocked most of the outburst, though almost all the books went crashing to the floor, papers flurried around the room. I couldn't tell if the Dark Lord was furious or curious; it didn't matter because it only earned Vox more pain, while I was held at wand point, a threat; more magic from me, more pain for him. I held myself as carefully controlled as ever before, but my stomach roiled.

After we had both stood again, the Dark Lord turned his back and left the room, a cat finally bored by the mouse. It was not the end. Six Death Eaters entered the room shortly after His departure. They were masked and robed in black. They removed the masks one by one; it was clear they were not afraid of us telling their identities. My morbid mind wondered if that was because they knew we would be dead soon. They were my former classmates, and not all Slytherins. Most notable was Pansy Parkinson, she had a smile that I could only describe as cruel, but there were others. A Ravenclaw boy with brown hair fingered his wand menacingly and a blond Hufflepuff girl sneered at us. The others were in other years and I did not know them so well. A thought came to me; that Nott would be among them if not for Harry. I smiled at that, but it was short lived. There was not much dancing around it; we seemed to be mere practice for them.

Pansy Parkinson was the worst, I gagged at the thought that my parents had arranged my marriage to her; that had dissolved as soon as I allied with Harry, of course. She had waltzed forward, with me under body-bind and pressed herself against me. She had kissed me full on the lips and my skin wanted to crawl off and hide under the bookcases.

"Such a pretty face, our one-time prince has. And does he, a blood-traitor, deserve it?" She looked coyly over her shoulder at her comrades even as her fingers traced down my cheek and along my jaw. They all grinned stupidly at her; she was ringleader among them and they'd laugh at anything 'funny' she said. Parkinson turned in a flash and slammed her fist into my nose. The sharp pain made my eyes water. Then she fixed it with magic. I knew it was crooked, I could feel it was displaced slightly left. Then she conjured a knife and carved a 'T' across my cheek. The cross bar stretched from my nose to my ear, and the straight leg from just a hair off blinding me, past the corner of my mouth and off my jaw line. She drew it so fast down my cheek that the blade cut into my collar bone too. I would have sunk with the blow except I was bound. After that she seemed satisfied to use magic to inflict pain.

Down in the basement I touched my nose, and traced the drying blood across my face, the wounds were surprisingly shallow but still as tender and painful as when they had been made. Just brushing my fingers across them made me tear up. Now, I was bait. I knew the basement was doubly warded, anti-apparation and anti-portkey. Normally wizards only bothered with the first since the creation of a portkey was a difficult and technical procedure. The ministry employed some of the best makers of portkeys for official business and besides those wizards only a handful of people knew how and were capable of it. Dumbledore was one; he had upset the ministry more than once by creating the things. Voldemort of course had people able to make them.

Harry didn't know about any of the wards and wouldn't acknowledge them if he did. Thinking of him only brought up questions like: did he know we were gone? How could he know? Surely the guards on the doors were not their only way of catching him. Voldemort must have a hundred little magical traps laid out with Vox and me at the center. I sourly refused to think about ifs and instead reached out to Vox. I found his hand. He pulled it away sharply but presented his other hand instead.

"Sorry, it's tender."

"It's okay," I said. His hand was trembling.

"Your poor face." He reached up and brushed the scabbing, tears welled again stinging my eyes. He knew how much the scarring hurt my pride, worse than any of the spells had hurt, Parkinson had known it too. I frowned again. He touched the bridge of my nose. "Don't worry, I'm sure it makes you look… roguish, like Sirius."

"His nose is straight." I muttered. He chuckled and we fell to waiting.

* * *

I didn't think we had waited all that long. In the dark however it felt like an interminable amount of time. Draco had carefully ripped strips off the bottom off his shirt and bound the wound on my hand, more to protect it than bind it closed; it would take magic to do that. That cut and the one at my collar still hurt like fire, numbness had not come. I wondered if that was a side effect of the cruciatus curse. It was then as my good hand was gently feeling around the wound on my shoulder that the dark solidified in one corner of the tiny cell. Instinctively Draco and I slid away from it, I jarred my ribs and gasped, I had forgotten that that giant wizard had kicked me there.

Then there was a pale face in the corner opposite us and pale hands though the rest was as dark as the surrounding space.

"Harry," Draco's whisper was awe-filled, "but the wards…"

"There are no wards against how I travel," if the light was not so little the smile on his face would have been obvious, even now I could see the quirk on his lips. He reached across the small space and touched us both gently and we apparated. It was not like apparating with other people; here we merely were one place then the other, with others it felt like being forced through tubes too small for mice. I was grateful that it was he that did that bit of magic; I shivered at the thought of the other method and my broken bones.

We appeared on the floor of our sitting room. Snape was perched on the edge of Harry's chair, eyes dazed. He started at our abrupt arrival, glanced at the clock on the mantel. Once he had gotten over whatever shock he had felt he was at his godson's side. I looked at Draco, his nose was straight and there was no marking across his cheek, though the wounds his father had given him were still there. I pressed a hand against my ribs and found they did not pain me. The slice in my hand was still there and painful.

"I'm sorry, there are certain realities that once seen must heal in their time or with someone else's spell." That made sense to me; it was a lot easier to deny something if you hadn't seen it done than if you had been witness. Snape would heal it just as easily. Neville knelt down next to me and unlaced my shirt at the collar to expose the wound on my shoulder. Then he slathered a minty smelling paste over it. It stung at first but then the pain ebbed to numbness. He unwrapped my hand and dressed it as well. It was then I looked up at Draco and Snape. The older man had his arms encircling Draco and I could hear whispered words pass between them until Draco pushed him off and directed him towards me. He was not able to do much either, though he gave me several potions to aid healing. He then ushered us to our rooms and sleep. I entered my room and found all my knives were laid out on the table. I thought I had lost them in the fight. I had a second set but its quality was less, not significantly so but just enough that I could tell. I smiled at them and picked up the ones I always had on me, slipping the steel into clever sheaths woven into my robes. The others were for when I went out, whether it was hunting or just in the castle it didn't matter, I carried them all. I didn't bother stowing the small ones in my hair though; I was fighting the effects of a sleeping draught as it was.

Harry returned to his chair for the remainder of the night, his mongoose sitting watchful above him on the back of the chair. I felt restless, nervous and vulnerable; it kept me from sleep all night. Tesla tried to stay up with me so that I would have more company than a silent brooding Harry, but she fell asleep at about four. I had not realized it but all of the events of tonight had happened before midnight, though it felt like we had spent days out in the snow and cold, and the mere minutes Harry had been gone had felt like years. I imagined that to Snape they felt like centuries. It was not until the white of sunlight reflecting off the snow came through the window did Harry stir. Then it was only to glare at the glass panes. They changed to brightly stained glass and he ended with a splash of green blue across his face, and a line of red following the scar on his neck. It seemed to satisfy him, because he turned away from it and stroked Kenelm. It was then that the door opened and the sound of magic spells filled my ears. It was over before I could stick my head into the hallway, though. Remus was panting, looking grey and exhausted, and leaning against the closed door. He did have half of a smile on his lips. Sirius in typical fashion showed all the excitability and enthusiasm of a young boy, despite the hints of grey at his temples. He clearly thought that a duel in the morning was as good as breakfast. Remus pushed away from the door, caught sight of me and quickly crossed the distance between. It seemed Sirius also remembered that something had not gone according to plan last night and was on his heels.

"Harry," Remus' voice was soft, questioning. Harry didn't answer though he did look at him, which was more than he sometimes would when he was like this. Sometimes he was just waiting for the question. "What happened last night? When you collapsed?"

Harry explained in as few words as he could and fell silent again.

"They're alright now," I said when Harry gave no indication. "We all are."


	46. A Twist to the Heart

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Six: A Twist to the Heart

During the last weeks of school before break we found few reasons to go to class, but with a little prying Remus and Severus could normally get us out the door. Harry however was the final word on it. After the night of the full moon we all felt vulnerable and if he decided not to stir from our rooms than none of us felt safe going out. Remus did, he had classes to teach, and he insisted that he would not abandon the students when they needed every advantage they could get. That of course quickly shut Sirius' protests. Part of me always felt foolish for staying in but one thought about that night and I settled to working in my lab as if there were nothing interesting outside our door. I had given up all my extra classes, the ones that Neville did not also have. It left only transfiguration, herbology, charms, and DADA. With a resident potions master there was no point in going to potions and had Remus not taught DADA we would not have gone to that class either. After two weeks though we were attending classes regularly again, with or without Harry's accompaniment.

Severus had grudgingly said that his replacement, Professor Slughorn, was good. He wouldn't admit that he had been the man's pupil. The only thing that I got out of my godfather about him was that he "did not take potions seriously enough." I doubted anyone would ever take potions seriously enough for Severus.

There was some good stemming from that night; Voldemort was so furious at our escape that He seemed to have gone on a rage about Wizarding London and countryside alike. And that drew the focus of the Ministry away from us. I considered it a beneficial side-effect but it bothered Harry considerably to read about those attacks and the death-toll ever rising. Perhaps that was not the only reason the Ministry had been ignoring us. The sly glint in Harry's eye when the ministry was mentioned seemed to say something more was making them back off. None of us knew what had happened that day within the Ministry only that Harry and the others all walked free of it. Harry held his usual silence about the matter and the one time I had been in the presence of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna they said they didn't know what had happened either.

There were still aurors stationed on our corridor at all hours of the day, but with our escort of armor we were able to get from our door to the other end without lifting a finger. Neville explained that they had spontaneously sprung to life the night of the full moon when he needed aid. It reminded me very much of the ward on my own manor house. My former manor house as it was now; my father had finally struck me from the Malfoy family tree. I had received notification from the goblins of Gringotts. It was lucky that I had been slipping money out of the family accounts for years; I had my own account and took gold out of the family vault and put it into my own. Gringotts did not keep track of the contents of family vaults as a measure of privacy, only transactions were recorded, so if a family member with their key came and scooped mounds of gold into a pouch no questions were asked. I had had no reason for doing it; my allowance was enough to live off of for years, perhaps it was just a preparation. How glad I was that I had done it now though.

* * *

The end of term loomed ominously above my friends as they sat studying in the Hogwarts' library. We all knew the Room of Requirement could provide all the books we needed but it did not have the demanding air of scholarship that the library possessed. Even when the front room of our quarters changed into a book lined space, none of us could focus for very long. We were all starting to feel cramped in our rooms; the edging restlessness made me want to don a cloak and slam the door on my way out, saying good-riddance to inside and by measure I was not the most restless of us. There was still safety there though, but even that fact was having less and less effect on us. After the full moon it had been four days before anyone but Remus had left the room of requirement but now we very nearly avoided the place as anywhere more than a place to sleep. And none of us slept all that much, they all with noses in books and ink-stained fingers, trying to memorize verbatim their textbooks, and I in mere avoidance of nightmares.

I gritted my teeth against another little twitch in my scar. That was becoming all the more frequent though this time at least it came without the frame of a vision that might give it context.

"You alright, Harry?" Neville must have seen my grimace; I was never very good at keeping it out of my expression or perhaps he had just gotten that good at reading my face. I hoped it was the second I didn't like the thought of strangers knowing I was in pain however brief.

"Fine," I answered, flipping the page of my book, a collection of myths from the sphinxes. It was not holding my attention very well. Tesla was missing from the table but by the time I had closed my book over a finger, she returned carrying a stack of books that she had to peer around in order to see where she was going. She dropped them to the table top with frustration.

"Madame Pince won't let me in the restricted section;" she flipped one of the tomes open harshly, "that jealous woman treats her books like her children and us all kidnappers and murders."

The comment brought smiles to all our faces if only briefly. Tesla frowned.

"What was it you wanted from there?" Neville asked in a commiserating tone.

"I wanted to see if there was a copy of Griender's Defense, we had the book at home, it was one of my favorites." She looked up at me, "Don't worry yourself about it, I've got quite enough here to write about."

"It's hardly worrying about it." I looked up at the ceiling, and followed the book on its decent to the table. It made a loud thud. Madame Pince bustled around the corner and we all quickly returned to our study. It was amazing how seven years causing trouble could teach you how to hold a straight face. It only lasted until she disappeared around the shelves towards the front of the library. Tesla grinned the widest of the others; she had a great sense for mischief.

"Do you ever even try to stay out of trouble?" Draco asked though his eyes never left his paper.

"I did for a few years but after the tri-wizard tournament it seemed that I was having no luck…"

"I think you might have figured that out a little faster, Potter." It was a teasing comment.

Sometime later, the lights dimmed and then brightened again; I had not realized that it was already so late.

"I guess we should pack up before the hag comes back and shoos us out with a broom and a curse. They really should let the seventh years have the library at all hours." The lights flickered again. Neville was shoving stray papers into his satchel. Draco had a much neater pile in his arms and stood waiting for the rest of us before he left. Madame Pince walked past us giving us a stare meant to give first years nightmares, but seeing us standing and readying to leave she did not stop to harry us out, not when there was other weaker prey.

* * *

We left the library in short order, Tesla still scrambling to put things in her bag. She stuffed her bottle of ink in her pocket and trotted after us. I was at the head; I still had hours of work to do before morning classes, I really had no idea what people with complete schedules did. I guess they weren't also fugitives. Draco and Vox strode shoulder to shoulder, whispering idly, just behind me. It was strange, I had expected Tesla to trot to catch up with me but she dawdled at the end. She was mostly done with her work. Harry was last in line; acting as rear guard no doubt, not that he would admit that was what he did.

The walk back was mechanical now; after the number of times we had tread the path, there should have been a worn trench to follow. I reached the door to our rooms and turned back to the others, Draco and Vox were there but neither Harry nor Tesla.

Draco and Vox turned and saw that they were not behind us. It was almost comical the way we shared looks and then went running back down the hall. I skidded around the corner…

…and stopped dead. Draco bumped my shoulder as he also came to a stop. Vox was more graceful, but there were already knives in his hands.

They were both standing there, against the wall, her arms were wrapped around him, and his were at his sides. It didn't make sense; my mind saw the inconsistency but my focus always came back to their locked lips. I felt like dying, right there in the hallway. Tesla drew back for a breath, her hand trailed down his cheek so tenderly. She stretched to kiss him again.

I didn't realize I had made the noise until it sounded in my ears.

Then Harry's breath hitched and Tesla drew back, whispering something, a smirk on her face, she gave a vicious twist and drew a knife out of his ribs.

Suddenly, I was next to Harry. I did not remember moving. My back was to Tesla and part of me hoped she would drive the dagger into my back and end the constricting of my betrayed heart. I pulled his shirt aside to look at the wound. I stood close to him, his ragged breathing in my ear, his hand clenched in my robes. The wound was still bleeding. I fumbled in my pockets, my fingers tripping with haste and a panic that I tried to shut out but was howling at the walls, a wind that would find the cracks.

I found the pouch ripped it open, took a handful of yellow-green powder and pressed it into the puncture. The rest I dropped, it fluttered to the stones, wasted but I didn't care. Harry tried to take a deep breath and slid to the floor. I leaned into it trying to keep the pressure. I expected the wound to seal at any moment it did not normally take so long for Harry to right his self-image.

There was a tussle going on behind me; I could see over my shoulder that Tesla was fighting off Vox. He would have won ages ago except that it seemed he was trying not to hurt her. I baulked at the idea that the love I had felt for her had flipped and now all I felt was hate. It had done so, easily, far too easily; it made me sick at myself.

Draco was nowhere to be seen, he must have gone for Snape.

I checked Harry's pulse, it was faint and arrhythmic and his breathing was fainter. "Come on Harry, you've survived worse than this."

"It was poisoned," he said, I barely heard the whisper.

I laughed; it was a pained sound. "Poison, is that all? The prophesy said at the hand of the other. You can't die yet."

"It was his dagger; maybe he cast the spell." His fingers closed around my wrist, pushing away my attempts to treat the wound, though his motions had no strength behind them. "Let it be. It's Nagini's venom."

"Fight it Harry," it came out as a plea. I heard pounding feet running down the other corridor. His fingers tightened convulsively, he took a shaky breath, and an agonized look settled in the lines of his face. His eyes closed and his pulse was so slow that I was sure I was fooling myself into thinking I felt it. I sat back on my heels, tears already welling in my eyes, my own breath ragged.

"Harry, Harry," the name repeated in my head, everything I knew about him dredged up from my memory as if I remembered and insisted that he was alive that he would be. "How could you give up?" I punched his upper arm, not hard, letting frustration banish grief, "You're exceptional." His grip had not lessened on my wrist; I imagined it tightening. The tears did fall then. It was just imagination. It was then that everything around him stopped moving. I had not realized the number of small things that he kept up. Spasms of magic fell apart; a teacup appeared, fell out of the air and smashed, the extra shadows that clung to him dissipated, and the imagined mask he wore slipped. The contrast was not so stark as I remembered and I realized for the first time that he had been slowly showing his true self more and more; just slowly so that we forgot. Again I was struck by how natural he looked even as paper thin and pale as he was, an exaggeration, that even in death, magic was giving to him. Goose-pimples rose on my skin; perhaps the horror had sunk in at last; Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was dead. I rebelled at the thought; part of me refusing that fact. I had lost people before; I knew what denial was.

I glanced over my shoulder. They stood arranged in a semicircle Vox had Tesla wrapped firmly in his grip. When her gaze met mine, she collapsed to the floor. Shock, fear, regret, and grief swept across her face. She made a noise, as if she couldn't think of words to express what she felt. Hate filled me and I stood in a rush but Snape beat me to her. He made a swift examination of her eyes.

"She's under some kind of curse; it looks like imperious but stronger, deeper."

The hate washed out and despair took its place. I felt heavy; I wanted to sit down and weep but that didn't seem like an appropriate response to anything. I felt like there was something else I was supposed to be doing. I was only dimly aware of Snape moving to Harry's side, and Remus joining him, Sirius was hanging back a hundred sorrows already obvious on his face.

Tesla was crouched head lowered as though, if she didn't see the results she could deny it all. My focus turned back to Harry. I had forgotten how small he was with all the magic fled; he had always seemed like the tallest person in the room, as if he filled a space bigger than what physicality showed. Maybe he did, maybe all that magic bubbled out of him and hung in the air extending everything that he was.

Remus waved his wand in a complicated motion over Harry, but before the final flick Snape had stilled his arm with a touch.

"You know as well as I that magic can't bring back the dead." It was said in the gentlest tone, but even that took the life out of Remus. He shrank back as if Death still stood close and the brush of his fingers would be his end too. A childhood story came back to me. It was a vague recollection; something about three brothers and them outsmarting Death. I couldn't remember more than those foggy details but I felt that if someone said just the first few words I could retell the whole story by heart.

"Magic can do anything," I said; my voice was low, dark, and stubborn. "He's alive and if you don't believe it then you have killed him as surely as that dagger." 'That was the key; we all forgot that magic had no laws.' I looked at Harry again, refused to see how death had made him; there was no blood, he was not collapsed but sat straight, even his face had the slight color of life, pale certainly, but not snow white, and his eyes, brilliant green and alert, alive even when he seemed frozen.

Snape turned and stared me down; it was the same look that his students got when they had done something that was beyond comprehension and deserving of harsh correction. I ignored him. Harry was alive; I refused for the world to be otherwise. And I don't think they would be so stoic if they really believed that he was dead. No, in their hearts they knew he was alive the same as I did.

Then as I stared at him his chest rose in the barest flutter of breath. The next was stronger, undeniably real. His eyes opened. Remus lunged forward to pick him up in a hug that I feared might drive the very breath right back out of him. Harry allowed the tight embrace to go on for some time, but then he gently deflected Remus' concern as if he had not just died, but then he had not really died. I had to remember that.

He came next to me. He put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me close so that he could whisper in my ear with no one hearing, or seeing and reading his lips. "I am exceptional, thank you for reminding me." From anyone else it would have been the height of arrogance and the gratitude mockery but from him it was honest. He greeted everyone else merely as if he had gone out on a walk and now returned. He didn't even look at Tesla.

* * *

Harry dusted off his sleeve nonchalantly and turned his back on us sauntering towards our door. I felt as dumbstruck as everyone else looked, though hopefully my jaw was not as slack as Sirius'; I clenched my jaw just to make sure. My teeth clicked. I was the first to recover and went trotting after him. Hopefully, everyone was too absorbed in shock to notice that indignity.

"Oi, Potter," I said teasingly as I caught up, "How many times are you going to die before this is over?"

"I can't die." I heard, his voice matter of fact, firm like stone but not gruff, and right over it also in his voice, "Just once, at the very end."

'Merlin, he was planning on dying at the end, and he was not. Why couldn't he be simple?' I readjusted my robes even though they were already straight, and decided not to say anything. As uncomfortable as thinking about that might be, speaking would surely be a hundred times worse.

* * *

I looked up; horror at what I had done still sitting in my chest taking up the space my heart should have had all to itself, it felt so tight that I was sure that my heart would have to stop beating or burst. Neville stood above me, concern in his face and a little uncertainty; his brow was creased and his mouth a straight line. I stood shakily and my feet started to drag me in the direction of the Room of Requirement and I couldn't bring myself to say anything or keep my eyes on his any longer. I really didn't want to go that way, it felt too much like stepping into a viper pit. Harry hated me and therefore so did his godfather and Professor Lupin. I knew he hated me, surely he did; I hated me. I came to the door and turned the handle. The door opened even though I was hoping he had locked me out. I slumped; disappointed that he had not. I was still aware of Neville behind me and I could almost feel what he was thinking, the scrutiny that everyone under imperious felt afterwards. It had felt so much stronger than I had expected. I had wanted to kill Harry, at the time it had been my deepest desire; I had felt elated when I had done it. Wasn't imperious merely a control? Didn't people know they were doing something against their will? I had not. Did I really want Harry dead, somewhere inside me, did I?

I passed into the sitting room where Harry had settled himself. Neville had said that Harry's door lead directly outside. I wondered if that was why he stayed in the chair for such extended periods of time. Harry had always been distant and in the past most of the time he gave a nod of acknowledgement to anyone entering the room. I had always thought of that nod as a bow; it had all the grace as if he had stood and given a formal bow to honor kings and queens. Now when he glanced at us and tilted his chin in the same manner I felt as if he were holding his temper in check. To me his glance was withering and cold, his nod full of hatred and when his gaze changed to Neville it resorted to normal. I decided that I was going to go to bed then and left without saying goodnight to anyone.

* * *

"I guess she won't understand that I don't hold what happened tonight against her."

I let my book-bag slide off my shoulder. It landed on the floor with a muffled thud that sounded far too loud. I walked over to the fire, rested my forehead against the mantel; I felt sick to my stomach and I couldn't figure out why. The drama was over, for tonight at least but… The idea of him dead… I still felt like I was dying with him. Part of me still couldn't quite forgive Tesla regardless of whether it was her fault or not. I wanted to, knowing that was the only way our relationship would ever work again. I opened my mouth to say something but couldn't figure out how to phrase it without sounding stupid, so I shut it again, not uttering a sound.

I saw Harry move from the corner of my eye.

* * *

Neville had started to tremble. It was almost imperceptible but it grew. Even so it was still small, his shoulders held rigid against it. I waved the door shut and locked it refusing everyone else entry. I stood and went to his side. I laid a hand gently on his shoulder trying to be consoling but he only shook harder.

Neville looked up at me, tears slid down his cheeks. He rubbed them away with a sleeve, "Merlin, I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to go off like this, it's just you…" he choked on whatever he was trying to say.

"Hey, it's okay, no damage done right?" I held my arms out to my sides showing that everything had healed; even the rip in my robes had been undone. His jaw clenched as he looked me up and down then his gaze returned to the fire.

I reached out again and brushed his shoulder but he jerked away. "I don't know what I would've done had you died." His eyes stayed on the fire, afraid or embarrassed to make eye contact with me. "I've always admired you, and even in the beginning I like to think that it was not because you were famous or even because you were popular when I was not. I knew we were alike in so many ways, and this last year we've only become that much closer. I don't know…" his eyes flickered in my direction. "I guess what I'm saying is that losing you would kill me." I remained silent knowing that was not all he wanted to say. "I never had much of a family. My grandmother was more like a tutor than a caretaker and you know about my parents. The rest of my family members were either distantly related Dark Wizards, or exceedingly strange and in their own ways little better than my grandmother for growing up friends with…" He squinted into the glow; I knew the look. He didn't really want to be telling me this but it was something he had to say. "Then this year, with Tesla… She was so sweet, odd and charming. I really liked her even on first sight and she liked me back. Nobody had really paid that much mind to me. I think I was, or am in love with her. But when she stabbed you… I was ready to betray or kill a hundred Teslas in order to save you. Just to save you even for just a minute… I think…"

I looked into the fire as he turned towards me. It was that kind of loyalty that terrified me. It was the same devotedness that Voldemort commanded from his followers. I couldn't convince myself that it was different. Neville said he would do anything to save me, and maybe that was different from doing anything to please me, but he had said he would murder someone he loved to save me.

I realized I had stopped listening. The words 'love you' came floating back through my mind. I looked at him sharply.

"I don't understand either, Harry. It's not the kind of love that I have for Tesla, and it's not friendship, I mean it is friendship but… I don't know, it's stronger, deeper, more devastating."

A thousand responses swirled around my head and stopped "I understand." It was the only thing I could say that was both honest and wouldn't hurt him. I felt so cold. Magic had given me exactly what I had always wanted; a family that I would never have to give up and somehow it had robbed me of the preciousness of short lives.

"I understand," I repeated. As warm as my words sounded I felt cold, trying to shrink inwards as my hair stood on end.

* * *

He said '"I understand," a second time. I couldn't believe that shy me had actually said what had become a growing thing inside me for several months. Even after saying it out loud I still grappled with understanding it. 'Why did I say that I would kill Tesla to save him, I loved Tesla.' 'Because it's true,' I was answered. That alone made me shiver; the fire might as well have been carved of ice for all the good it did. I looked up from the flames; Harry was staring at them. There was a gentle expression on his face as if he was considering something of no more importance than the color of his shirt. He seemed fainter in the light, more mist than flesh. The image did not flash and go away like it had in the past it lingered the length of time I watched him.

"Thanks Harry, understanding is all I could ask for. Whoever said life was easy…"

That brought a sardonic twist to his lips though I couldn't figure what exactly he saw funny in the situation.

_Author's Note: So here's another wonderfully long chapter for you. I hope you liked it. _

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	47. The Dark Mark

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Seven: The Dark Mark

I found Tesla asleep in my room; she looked as if she had tried to wait up for me but had fallen asleep in the armchair. I let her be, not really ready to confront her with my own rebellious feelings still not worked out completely. I wanted so much to just forgive and forget. 'Merlin, Harry has and he was the one that got a knife between his ribs.' I just wasn't sure; maybe in the morning when she smiled I would see her and not the curse that almost killed Harry. I felt sick, like I hadn't eaten and my stomach was chewing on itself. No matter how I shifted I didn't go to sleep eventually desperation roused me and I went to Draco's door.

* * *

There was a gentle knock at my door and I pried myself from my seat. Vox looked up from his book, a little shocked, I'm sure he thought that I was asleep. I had the feeling that if I hadn't been pinning his shoulder he would have left to go back to his own room.

"I thought you were asleep," he said, voice musing.

"I've started to find that afternoons are much better for sleep than nights."

He turned a page. Most afternoons he would disappear to his room and rest. I had done the same about a month ago and found that I slept much better during those hours than I ever had at night. So I stopped fighting the nocturnal schedule. I reached the door and straightened my robes before twisting the knob.

"Neville," I was a little shocked. He looked haggard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, did I? It's just I couldn't sleep and I was hoping you had some dreamless sleep potion…"

"No, you didn't wake me. Step in, I'll get you some; I keep that one stocked at least, I must have a month's worth."

"Thanks," he said as he stepped across the threshold. "Hello Vox." Their voices became murmurs as I entered my lab, the extra charms on it blocking out noise. My hands went right to the potion I needed. It was nestled among a hospital's-worth of others ranging from my own inventions to the standards that Madame Pomfrey always had stocked. I noticed I was almost out of calming draught and waved my wand vaguely in the direction of my cauldron. A fire blazed to life under the blackened bottom. I left the fire to bring the water to boil after dumping in some sugar and adding a few mint leaves to the cauldron. It really was a horrible taste without that modification even so it was not pleasant. It would take awhile for it to boil down enough to continue.

I left the room, vial in my hand and joined the others.

I handed the potion over to Neville, "Harry is okay, yes? The door was locked earlier and that isn't like him…"

Neville actually blushed but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how my words would cause such a reaction.

"Yeah, you know how he is. You'd never guess he had a knife in his chest a few hours ago." He gave a short laugh. "I'll go; I never do all that well without sleep."

"Goodnight," I said.

He was already half-way down the hall, but I heard his "g'night."

I shut the door, checked on the water in my cauldron, and sat down again. I felt a frown creep ungracefully onto my face.

"Which are you really worried about?" I didn't know how I forgot how perceptive Vox was.

"Both. Neither. I don't know." I didn't feel the need to expound on that statement. He knew. I fiddled with the vial of calming draught that I always carried. I never used to get twisted into knots like this and certainly not about people. I sighed, "I should be used to the way Harry is by now. It's not normal the way he deals with adversity,"

"Adversity? You mean people sticking him with knives, or cutting his throat, or torturing him." His tone was light but it was also a stab at the way I spoke. It was the way I had been trained to speak, never stepping on toes, always appropriately toned depending on who I was addressing, word choice paralyzing-ly careful. It was the way my father spoke, currying favor from politicians, and it rankled me that his hand still showed in my behavior.

"Yet, it's better than the way any of the rest of us might. So much better, stronger."

"You're afraid it's all show; that he will snap."

"Yes," my tone was defensive, though there was no need. The slightly downcast look in his eyes, too low to just be reading his book, said he agreed. 'Merlin, at least I no longer have to worry about Severus as well.'

"And Neville?" he prompted knowing I wanted to say something but not outright.

"I don't think we should be… I think it might be hard for him to reconcile with Tesla but really he did not seek oblivion by way of dreamless sleep immediately nor did he torture himself by not using it. No, he will be alright."

I checked on the water in the other room, it was ready. I scooped out the mint leaves; the sugar was in solution and could stay there. That was how Severus found me only two hours later, working smoothly. Potion masters at work could never be described as feverishly at work; haste ruined potions worse than any other mistake and more often than not, irreparably.

"Draco," he said, "did you sleep?"

"I don't at night anymore," I said still counting passes with my stirring rod. It made every word a little too rhythmic. He could speak quite normally while brewing as if there were two of him, one doing the potion-making, the other talking. He sat down in the armchair and watched me as I tipped in additional ingredients and frowned when I added seven sunflower petals, and then exactly 49 seconds later added seven more.

"That's a dangerous choice," he said.

"Severus, I think by now I'm capable of brewing a calming draught," I countered peevishly though I knew that was not what he was talking about precisely.

"You know what I mean, Draco, those petals and the other extraneous ingredients you've added are the difference between dependency and independence."

I frowned. I knew perfectly well that that was true but I needed the strength those ingredients added. "I know what I'm doing, thank you." My tone was terse and perhaps he realized that I was not going to be reasoned with because he dropped it.

"Harry is well?" he asked instead, I was still not used to him using Harry's first name.

"Harry is always well," I said sighing, "He's preparing to die in this war, I think. He said something last night…" I paused as I counted the final strokes. "'I can't die,' he said."

"Draco, you're not making any sense."

"Well, Harry doesn't make much sense so conversations about him typically don't either," I said peevishly, and while I instantly regretted the tone, I made no apology for it. "Anyway, I think he believes he can't die. Is that possible?"

He didn't speak immediately, "I know of only a few ways to immortality, all of them with costs greater than the reward. Perhaps Harry can live forever; I don't think he will want to when all his friends will age and pass away."

I interrupted him, "will we though? Will we die? It's stupid but I feel like he could keep us alive long after we should have died."

"Foolish, would you want to live like that, Draco? Who knows the terms of that bargain?" It was not chiding, more a shiver. "Harry, from what I understand of what I have seen and what Albus has told me, is not truly human anymore not in the way we are. He experiences magic, uses it in ways we could not dream of and the way he heals… it's like repairing a ripped portrait, not flesh. I don't know, Draco, it wouldn't be immortality like you and I envision it, that's all I can be sure of."

I nodded, staring at my potion; it turned a dark blue and I stifled the fire beneath it.

"Tea?" I offered, waving my wand at a porcelain pot, spelling the water hot. It drifted lazily in the direction of the two armchairs as I sat down.

"Yes, thank you," he sighed rubbing a temple. The pot poured into our cups and Severus took one cherishing-ly, all ten of his fingers touching it for the warmth. "So what other experiments have you been trying?"

I grinned, it was an easy subject between us when most other things had tensions of their own or led us to subjects that did. I summoned my notebook and looked over the careful handwriting, it was not quite my own hand as I had sometimes used a spell to take the notes I spoke out loud when my hands were busy. I had questions about all sorts of things from timing, to color and ingredients. He was equally enthusiastic, especially when I posed ideas that he had not thought of. We discussed the subject well into the morning. Eventually I ran out of questions, and the exercise became him quizzing me instead of my own curiosity. It was then that Vox came in.

* * *

"Good morning," I said when Draco noticed me at the door. He waved me in and conjured a third chair; the one I normally occupied was taken by his godfather. Their academic debate did not slow a breath and I spent the time studying the two. Draco normally calculating and reserved showed a true enthusiasm and unquenchable curiosity for potions. He sat forward with eager energy and his expression was more open than his normal outward indifference. Severus was equally changed, though not so noticeably, and but for the slight smile on his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes that betrayed his own passion, I would not have been able to tell. While Draco perched on the edge of his chair as if he might leap to his feet and pace the length of the room, Severus sat comfortably relaxed, one hand resting on the opposite forearm. The tightness that seemed a part of him was smoothed away. They were opposites in so many ways but complementing and I found that it was easy to feel content sitting with them.

There was something that seemed to nag at me, something that in their postures was not natural. I looked them both up and down again. I saw nothing strained or out of place until the fingers of Severus' right hand twitched tighter on his arm and with it a clenching of his jaw that was almost imperceptible as he spoke.

"Are you injured?" I asked; it was the only explanation for it though how I could not reckon.

Draco looked startled at my sudden question but became quickly searching of Severus' person. Severus shrank a little; it was confirmation enough for me. Draco too, it seemed. He stood and took Severus' wrist and pushed his sleeve back.

On the pale inside of his arm was the Dark Mark, a skull, jaw open with a sinewy snake slipping between the teeth. I had seen a few burned into Voldemort's followers; such pride they had because they bore his mark, I saw nothing but pain in it.

* * *

I felt Severus' pulse quicken under my thumb as I shoved his sleeve to his elbow and flipped his wrist so his palm was up. I knew what I was looking for; he had been pressing against the spot where the dark mark had been burned into his skin. I had seen the mark only a handful of times on my godfather, the need to hide kept him from wearing anything that would expose it, but I had seen a hundred others before. They were uniformly burned into the skin, blackened like char but not ever a raw red not even after it was first done. I had seen my father's wax and wane with the strength of the Dark Lord over the last years, always growing more detailed, stronger, and blacker. Severus' was not like I remembered it; it was black certainly, but blurred and red with irritation. Dark veins ran away from its center stretching as far as his wrist and disappearing under his sleeve, encircling his lower arm.

"Severus…" I said as I brushed the mark with my fingers. I didn't expect him to jerk so violently away and lost my grip on his wrist. He gasped with pain and yanked his sleeve back down to cover it. "You can't leave it like that, it's infected, though how I can't imagine."

He glared at me, sullenly, his arm pressed against his stomach, the other hand instinctively going for his wand.

* * *

"It's not infected, it's cursed," I admitted. "Voldemort doesn't tell you when he burns the mark into your skin but defy him and the mark turns to poison, or at least mine did." It had taken me several days to discover the nature of the mark after it had started to leech out. It was a variation on a bonding ritual that warlocks once performed that was now illegal, but the poisonous twist was something Voldemort had added and none of the literature I had found said anything about that possibility. I had performed several discovery spells that had revealed little of the spell's structure. They were enough to show that the poison would respond to antidotes but I had only found one that slowed the progression not one that destroyed it or even neutralized it.

With my words, Draco's expression changed, from anger at my hiding the curse, to open concern. I stood to even the ground of argument if that was what we were about to have. If we were, it was only fair after I had stuck my nose into his self-dosing habits. "Will you be alright?" His voice wavered.

"I should be, I found an antidote," I lied as smoothly as I ever had to the Dark Lord. I didn't like to admit to myself that I might not survive the poison.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "an antidote, not the antidote?" He stressed the distinction. He had been trained to notice those subtle differences, too well for my liking when I was trying to lie to him. I realized then for the first time that he was taller than me, not much but enough that I didn't have that advantage of looking down my nose as if he were an insolent child.

"An antidote is good enough," I said, trying to keep my shame at failing to find the antidote out of my tone. I failed at that too.

"It isn't if the poison still kills you," his temper flared again, though this time not directly at me. Vox put a hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture. Draco brushed it off clearly intent on staying upset. "So you were going to let it kill you and let us wonder one morning why you were dead in your blankets."

I felt heat come to my cheeks; that was more or less along the lines of what I had intended. I would look for a cure or failing that a better treatment but if the poison evaded my skill then so be it. Those events would be fair in their way, I had been too late to save her, and now I would be too late to save myself. It seemed fitting to me.

"Yes, and you worrying yourself sick is supposed to make me feel better." I shot back in equal hot temper, forgetting that I was more than twenty years his senior. That was aimed low enough that he blushed but it brought back some civility as well.

He growled, "If you don't want me to worry myself sick, then why don't you give me a sample of the poison so that I can make my own investigation."

I consented, recognizing it as the only way to stop the argument though at the cost of dignity. I was only sharing with him frustration and failure, but I knew well enough that he would insist and nag until I gave in. I pulled a syringe and needle from my robes, a muggle invention but useful when magic would adversely affect a sample. Draco looked away when he saw what I was about; the boy had a queasy stomach that I didn't understand.

The poison came out a sickly brown mottled purple and after drawing out a sufficient amount, I handed the whole apparatus to Draco. He took it gingerly and stowed it in his lab.

I glanced at the clock on the mantel, not sure it had been there before or if the room decided I needed it. It was noon. "I'm sorry, Draco, I have a potion brewing that needs attending. You should attempt that one elixir again, this time try carefully sorting out the colors and adding them in that order instead, record the results. We'll finish our discussion tomorrow." It was a cheap way to get out from under his hurt gaze, but I really did have a potion to attend. I knew the assignment would go by the wayside in favor of finding an antidote but I was willing to let that go.

* * *

I watched my godfather turn and leave. I did feel ill with worry but I ignored it, turning instead to the task I had set. Vox followed me into my lab but he didn't say anything, merely sat down to watch. The room had provided me with more than thirty small cauldrons, appropriately sized for experimentation. There were already fires under each, water jumping to a simmer even as I looked into the first one. I transferred two drops of the poison to one of the cauldrons, cancelling the fire beneath it, the rest I transferred to a vial. Antidotes were likely the most difficult branch of potions because they required the perfect balance of ingredients to counter the strength and affects of the original poison; without it they were as likely to be deadly as innocuous. The next three potions I started were meant to reveal the characteristics of the poison and I could do nothing else until they were finished.

I perched uneasily on my stool as I triple checked each ingredient I added to the three, they had to be perfect to work at all.

Vox laid a hand on my shoulder, the scar from the night we had been kidnapped a white ridge. He handed me a cup of tea, "They'll cool just as quickly without you watching them, you know."

I took a sip of the tea, it had a coppery taste; he had added his blood to it. He had explained the gesture as courtesy but I always suspected it was something more, not that I minded whatever the reason. "I know, thank you," but I didn't budge from my seat.

He pulled a second stool close but again refrained from saying anything. Waiting put me in a sour, frustrated state of mind. I knew Severus had gone through this same process and the fact that he had not shared the results was concerning at best and downright nightmarish otherwise. I thought of several reasons for why, each one more horrible. One of the potions would show the run of the poison, every painful turn of the progression. It clearly already pained him a lot and I couldn't believe that Voldemort would let that be the worst of it. The second potion revealed ingredients of the poison itself though unfortunately not all of them, and the third interactions between the poison and various combinations of the more common antidote bases. Starting with a compatible base was the best way of designing an antidote but not the only way and certainly with invented poisons as this one surely was it was not assured to be successful. While I hoped that one might be compatible, it was unlikely, and that would leave me scrambling to pick out of the millions of untried combinations to come up with something successful. 'If Severus can't do it, why would I have any hope?' The thought came unbidden.

"Perhaps, because you will try things he wouldn't dare." Vox said; I blushed to think that I had spoken that doubt aloud. "Don't blush, it's true. I've seen you dump explosive ingredients together just to see what sludge is left at the bottom of your cauldron."

I sighed, that was true, one had even been useful, if you needed blood to clot and had the right ingredients, which were pretty common themselves, it was ready before you bled out. He took the empty cup out of my hand and refilled it, blood and all. I took it again, drained it and waited for the potions to finish.

_Author's Note: Happy reading._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	48. Dragon's Blood

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Eight: Dragon's Blood

I shut the door behind me but not before the howling wind pushed a foot of snow in with me. Kenelm trotted down the corridor shaking ice out of his golden fur. It was cold at my end of the hallway and the snowflakes lingered in the gust before the air settled. I shook my cloak out and forgot the snow existed. I wasn't really sure how long I had been out in the storm but it had been a refreshing change of scene after the stifling warmth of our common room. I had not left the Room of Requirement for six days other than through my bedroom door. In that time I had only seen Neville consistently. Remus, followed closely by Sirius, usually as his dog Animagus, had classes to teach and when that was not consuming his time, grading essays did. I had seen Severus in our small library occasionally but most of his time was spent in his potions lab. Tesla had been around too but had avoided being in the same room with me as much as she could. She and Neville were also stiff to each other but that was for them to sort out. I was walking down the hall intending to retake my seat by the fire when I was ambushed.

Draco grabbed my sleeve and pulled me bodily into his sitting room. We didn't stop there though; instead he dragged me across the floor and into his potions lab. There were nearly sixty small cauldrons set up on tables that made neat rows across the floor, each one at a different stage of preparation. Some sat over dying embers, or fire licked the sides, and others sat in buckets of ice water.

"Draco, what is going on?"

"Sorry," he apologized, "I have to tell you something and I didn't want Severus to know I had asked you. He doesn't like help, even from me and I'm not sure he would take it from you. Prideful and stupid as that might be."

I finally really looked at him. I had been distracted by the cauldrons but on turning to him I knew something was very wrong. He looked torn apart; his normally immaculate appearance was gone, replaced by looks that I would never recognize as Draco except that I had heard his voice. His hair was sticking up in strange ways as if he had run fingers through it in frustration. His sleeves were messily rolled back, his collar crumpled and folded unevenly, his shirt was un-tucked, his shoelaces were loose, and his face… His eyes were rimmed with dark rings and smudges of what I identified as potion ingredients marked his cheeks and brow as if he had carelessly wiped sweat away with dirty hands. He was shaky and looked as if only iron self-control kept him from collapsing in a chair and sleeping for a week.

"He might not be so opposed now," I said. Draco snorted, clearly disagreeing.

He sighed, "How much do you know about the Dark Mark?" The words set off fireworks in my head. A thousand images ran before my eyes, most were of my Mark being burned into the arms of my followers, the others when I used it to summon them to my side. I slammed a block between the two of us. That was the first time in a more than a year that I had fallen so deeply into his mind. I came back knowing more than I wanted to about that curse.

"The ones on the inner circle turn to poison if they betray Voldemort, or rather if he knows they have." My voice was subdued, "Voldemort thinks there is no cure."

"You knew?" there was accusation in the tone but mostly grief.

"No, I just… I guess remembered would be the best word. I'm sorry, Draco."

"Can you do anything about it?"

"No, it's one of those 'real' things that I can't do anything about." I looked miserably at the rows of cauldrons.

"'Voldemort thinks,' not you, not I… All poisons have antidotes."

He was grasping at straws but perhaps that hope was better than seeing him resigned to watch Severus in constant agony. I knew the progression it would take, like '_crucio_' stretched across years, weakening muscles as it spread ever outward from the mark. Never quite enough to kill, and perhaps that was the worst part.

Draco turned to his potions, walking down the line of them, sometimes pausing to take notes or cast a spell.

"I don't think he's slept at all in the last six days." I turned to see Vox in one of the chairs by the fire. He too looked worn. "He dragged it out of Severus the morning after that incident in the hall. It made Draco pretty upset. The worst was at the beginning when he had to wait for the potions to rest, when he couldn't do anything but wait… trust me even seeing him like this is better than that."

"I think I can imagine; I don't particularly like feeling helpless myself."

"Yes, well at least he will eat if you stick it under his hands at the right moment, though he's really only taken tea." With Vox's blood in it, I was sure. At least that was a source of strength.

Draco started working his way back up the next aisle. I didn't know how he had kept up with so many potions for six days, I knew even potion masters rarely tended more than six, and even then each was carefully timed so that they never had to be in two places at once.

"Has he had any luck?"

"I think he'd say luck had nothing to do with it," I nodded, grimly; "there have been moments of excitement. I don't know a lot about potions so…" his voice faded.

I stood still, arms crossed, watching Draco work up and down the remaining lines of cauldrons. He showed a meticulousness that I lacked and that had always brought me to my knees in that class.

Eventually he finished and came back to where I stood.

"Harry, I was wondering if I could have some of your blood. Voldemort put some of his blood in the poison and while that in itself isn't the deadly part it somehow helps bind the poison together."

"Voldemort took some of my blood to restore his body at the end of fourth year; he's immune to that defense now."

"Yes, he is now, but this poison was made before you were born so perhaps it is still vulnerable," he countered smoothly

I frowned, I didn't know if Voldemort had seen that weakness and done something against it or not. Even so I wasn't about to deprive Draco of the chance.

"How much?"

"I don't know, enough to neutralize the amount in the poison. A vial for now, after all we don't know if it will even work." I had never seen Draco so eager and fixated. I drew a vial from my cloak as though I walked around with a vial of my own blood all the time and handed it to him. He nearly snatched it from me and went back to an empty cauldron. He poured a drop into the water. In seconds, steam hissed off the surface of the water and not more than another two ticks of the clock water gushed out a new hole in the bottom of the cauldron. Vox stood up, shock clear in his features. Draco just seemed very excited about the outcome of the experiment. I didn't know precisely why, but perhaps it was the reaction he had been hoping for. I did think it was strange that my blood had caused such a reaction. Ron had accidentally cut himself and dripped blood into his cauldron once during class and that hadn't made much impression on his potion. The only thing that I could remember having such a violent effect on cauldrons was dragon's blood. It was much denser than most of the other ingredients used in potions and fell straight to the bottom and ate away at the iron until it broke through. The only cauldrons it could be used in were wooden, not very useful unless the whole potion could be made cold, glass or those made of the precious metals. The only other way was to cover the cauldron in a paste that solidified into a non-reactive surface. I remembered Neville messing that up pretty badly, not that I had been that much more successful.

Draco was enthusiastically wiping up the water and replacing the soaked wood under the cauldron. "Harry, could you come here for a minute?"

I picked my way across the damp floor, to his side.

"Did you see that," he was excited, even the dark rings around his eyes didn't dampen the expression. "It was so strange, reacted just like Dragon's blood, I wonder why?" He started scrawling notes across a pad of paper. He took my hand and pricked a finger with a needle, "do you mind?" he asked belatedly as he squeezed a drop onto a plate of metal. The drop ate through it like acid. "Sorry, I had to make sure." He had a fanatical light to his eye that I hadn't seen before but then I had never truly watched him work at potions. I wondered if I ever looked that entranced. I would probably never know unless someone told me. He let go of my hand and moved down the line to his store of ingredients. I followed at his shoulder, curious about the whole process. He carefully labeled the vial I had given him and then reached into a cubby-hole that held a single flask. The liquid was purple and brown looking like a newly formed bruise, I assumed it was the poison by the careful way he handled it. He pulled out a bit of glassware, a curved plate the width of his hand; he dripped a bit of the purple liquid out on the glass, picked up a magnifying glass, and added some of my blood to it. The mixture fizzled and popped, Draco wrote that down and a few other minute observations. I wondered if he knew how close this was to muggle chemistry. Probably not, he'd be horrified. He pulled out a rack of what I would call test tubes, following my muggle education; added different stock-potions to each of the six tubes and then added a drop of the mixture of poison and blood into each.

He compared results against another pad of paper, all the while muttering to himself, almost oblivious to me trailing after him.

"I'd sit down, Harry," called Vox, "he goes on like that for hours."

I decided from what I had seen that Vox was right. I was even suspicious that Draco didn't know that it had been six days since he had started. I plopped down into the chair opposite the vampire. Kenelm curled around my feet and went to sleep. The poor thing had not thought very much of the snow outside after being buried in a drift that had slid off the roof.

I spent the rest of the night in that chair watching Draco pace back and forth, new ideas to try seeming to fall into his head out of nowhere. Each one set off a flurry of motion. Vox took him a cup of tea every few hours but most times Draco left it cold on the counter. I watched the fire slowly die but Vox was the one to stoke it back to life with a little prodding.

* * *

I brought the fire back to life with a little careful prodding and the addition of a little wood. It was odd to me that the other fires never needed tending but this one did; perhaps the room was giving me a distraction from boredom and worry. I did need it; I thought I might go crazy watching Draco work.

I looked back over my shoulder from my position on the hearth. I was going to say something to Harry but he was gone. He had been there mere seconds before and I would have heard him leave, besides the fact that he would say goodbye before he did. I stood up and he was there again, as if he hadn't disappeared. His eyes were half-closed and staring. As I watched, his image became misty, insubstantial until it was gone again; and just as slowly he re-solidified. There was no pattern to it; sometimes he faded all the way to invisibility and then in a sudden burst was there again, or he flickered back and forth. It did not last long with me watching him; he started out of whatever trance he had been in and shifted higher in the chair.

"I'm sorry," his gaze focused on me, or half of it did, "I must have slipped into a daydream. Did you say something?"

He had that uncanny ability to sense eyes on him. "No. I didn't." I sat down again but I didn't have the pleasure long. A knock came at the door and when Draco proved himself to be outside any attempt at contact I answered.

Neville stood at the door. "Hello, I was wondering where you all disappeared to. I guess Harry is with you?"

"Sorry, Neville, I'd offer an explanation but I think seeing is better. Where is Tesla this morning?"

"She went to class, says all the teachers have asked where the rest of us have been…" There was something off in his tone, not anger but a little indifference that I had not expected to hear from Neville when he was speaking about Tesla. We crossed the sitting room and I pushed open the door. Neville took a few steps into the lab and stopped dead.

"Has he gone insane?"

"Define insane," came Harry's gently mocking reply. He hadn't moved from his chair, there was a teacup in his hand; he held it by the rim with three fingers.

"Has he been at… whatever this is for seven days?"

"Yes, he has, come sit down."

He complied summoning one of the extra lab stools for his use.

"Voldemort poisoned Severus through the Dark Mark. Draco is looking for the antidote."

Neville twisted on his stool so that he could follow Draco's movements around the lab. "Merlin, no wonder," he breathed. We were silent, all watching as Draco worked.

"Has it stopped snowing yet?" Harry asked.

"I believe so, I haven't been out and the windows are all covered."

Harry sighed and got up, "Here, in case he needs more." He handed me three more vials of his blood. "I'm going out flying for a bit," and he left. As I watched him go I thought there might already be feathers in his hair.

"Is that his blood?" Neville asked, daintily.

I frowned at the vials, "yes, it is. Draco thinks it will counteract a part of the poison."

_Author's Note: As I do occasionally, I feel I should publicly thank everyone who has reviewed. Thank you. I'd like to extend my great appreciation to Bookworm and Dopey4Dobby because the two of them have reviewed almost every chapter in this story. It is immensely gratifying to know that someone enjoys reading what I have written that much. So to the two of you I raise my glass. Thank you._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions _


	49. Reconciled

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Forty-Nine: Reconciled

I shut the heavy front door behind me, my book bag weighing at my shoulder. I was ready to toss it in a corner and forget about it for the time being, but I had essays to write and spells to practice. I looked up just as Harry left Draco's room.

He looked at me and ran a hand through his feathers. "Good afternoon, Tesla."

'Feathers!' I probably shouldn't be too surprised; there were a dozen other things slightly wrong about his appearance.

"Hello, Harry," I got into small arguments with myself every time I saw him, but slowly I was siding more with the side that believed that night was not my fault. I was actually having more trouble with Neville than with Harry; Neville had been stiff lately and I didn't blame him. It also helped that Harry was as courteous as ever, with never the slightest indication that he even remembered what had happened. I caught up with him in the hallway. He looked distracted, not that that was unusual, but today his expression had more worry to it. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not the person to tell you. That choice belongs to someone else. Funny, but I'm not even supposed to know." His smile was crooked, I'd even go so far as to call it mischievous, for it reminded me a little too much of Ron's twin brothers. "I'm going outside for a little while if you care to join me." I guess that explained the feathers.

"Um, sure, I could use a break from school work. Let me put my books away and grab a thicker cloak."

I separated from him at my door and retrieved what I needed. Artemis uncurled from her nap and regally decided that she would accompany me. I turned with her twining around my ankles to join Harry. He looked wild in the dim light of the hallway. I didn't know what part of him struck me so, maybe all of him, his pride, the feral ready stance he always assumed, on the balls of his feet, or just his eyes, too much like a manticore in a cage. Kenelm came scurrying down the hallway, all the dignity his sister carried was conspicuously missing from him. Harry smiled down at the mongoose; the wildness seemed to tame until he was no longer more than human, his shadow no longer cast hugely against the wall.

He led the way down to his own door and opened it for me, bowing me through ahead of him into the blistering cold.

His room was not a room at all but a small balcony that extended from one of Hogwart's towers. It had a wide carved balustrade with each support a different magical creature. The heavy snow had stopped and so had the wind, thankfully, but it was still cold. I quickly buttoned my cloak to keep it from flapping open. Artemis did not think much of the snow and climbed up so she could lie inside the wide collar of my cloak, like a living scarf. Harry sat down on the railing letting his feet dangle above the more than seven story drop. That would hardly mean death to him after what I had seen him survive. I decided to stay firmly on the balcony though and conjured a chair.

I looked up at the sky; it was clearing swiftly, the clouds blowing east, the sun shining through gaps. The sunshine was warm when it reached where we sat. It was sinking towards the horizon though and it wouldn't stay so comforting for long.

It was satisfying to be outside when we had been forced to stay in for months; it was like breaking free. I think I understood why Harry didn't have a room, this was far better than four walls or even a fire. Though, perhaps I would not feel the same in a few hours.

Harry slipped into a raven shape and took off in a rush of black feathers. I traced his flight until he grew too small to see. As soon as he disappeared from sight he was sitting again on the railing.

"Neville said you were trying to become an Animagus…" he said glancing over his shoulder.

"Yes, I have, with limited success."

"Did you pick something you want to be…? Neville had that problem, he couldn't pick one thing."

"That's the problem, part of me really rather stay human."

He pulled out a book; more likely made from thin air than from under his cloak, and stretched out an arm to hand it to me. "From what I understand of Animagus forms we don't get to chose what we are. We might even not like the type of animal that is truest to ourselves. Though, I think that would be hard since in essence that would mean that we don't like who we are. Perhaps you should learn it the standard way rather than fumbling in the dark like we have."

I took the book; it had a worn red leather cover, and faded lettering that read, 'True Animals.' "Thank you. Maybe that will help." I opened it and started reading, forsaking my schoolwork for the time being. He smiled and then turned back to staring out at the forest and grounds.

The sun sank and the temperature dropped considerably. I found my cloak unsuitable to ward off the growing wind and decided to retire. Harry had not moved from his place since he had given me the book and even now he didn't as much as shiver with the cold. I said his name so that I could politely excuse myself but he didn't stir. I wondered if he had sent his soul off with that bird. That had been a legend once too, human souls riding in the bodies of animals while their human bodies waited for their return. I seemed to remember that the consequences had been a little too much for wizards to bear (madness and death doesn't sit well with people when it's their own) and eventually it became taboo and then the way of it forgotten.

He certainly seemed to be vacant. I yawned and then shivered and then decided to go inside, good manners be damned.

* * *

I had left Draco's potions lab a few hours after Harry did. Draco had not even acknowledged my presence and Vox was too worried and exhausted to be good company. I decided to work in my greenhouses since both our library and common room were empty and I had done the essays required of me. I spent some time in my green houses but even with the magically induced warmth, the glass enclosures were chilly and the rampant growth I had seen had subsided, except for the taranteculas that still snacked on whatever came too close, plant or beast. There was a gap between them and the next nearest plant and I didn't go any closer without protective clothing and a thick stick. I was lucky enough to run into the levitating plant and clipped a few leaves from it and took one of the seed pods; Fred and George loved the stuff and used it in several of their joke shop items. There were a few other plants that were mobile, and they shifted around in the winter light, still green, but the rest were losing their color, preparing for true winter. I didn't feel much needed in the garden and went back inside to the fire in the common room.

Much later in the evening I heard a door open and shut and the whisper of wind come down the corridor. The candles flickered and so did the fire, sending sparks up the chimney. A few moments later, a white mongoose, the twin of Harry's, trotted down the corridor in a huff. Tesla was not far behind but when she saw me she turned to leave.

"Wait," I said.

She paused.

"Join me?" I offered. She came in and sat down, though on a different couch from me, and opened her red leather-bound book to a marked page.

I wanted to apologize to her but I could only imagine the number of ways I could screw it up.

'I'm sorry Tesla. I just want to let you know that I would kill you if it would protect Harry. That's why I've been so cool to you lately… Yes, that would go over very well.' I decided to keep my mouth shut.

She read for awhile and I tried not to stare at her.

The hour grew later and later and still she didn't say a word. Remus and Sirius passed by the room near to midnight but they did not join us. No one else appeared, though it was Harry's custom to watch the fire die each night.

Then near four in the morning her finger trailed down the last page of her book and she looked up. Her eyes narrowed but not in anger, just concern.

"I forgive you."

I gaped at her.

"I forgive you. I understand how hard it is to see someone who has been under imperious. You can't ever really separate the curse from them; you can't trust how they will act. I know how much you care for Harry; I even know that you would choose him over me every time. You're undyingly loyal, Neville, I love that, and I still love you."

I continued to stare at her, bewilderment clear in my face. 'How did she know all that? Was it that obvious?' I struggled to find something to say in response. "I'm sorry." It sounded inadequate. "I still love you too." That was little better than the first statement.

"I'm glad for that. Now, goodnight, I still plan to go to class later even if you guys don't."


	50. On Sharing Blood

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty: On Sharing Blood

It was the evening before winter break started and for once I was not grading essays or scoring disappointing potions or explaining to some silly Ravenclaw why he or she wasn't top in the class. The time for once was pleasant, even relaxing. I had a large cauldron of pepper-up potion brewing; I still worked for Pomfrey since there was no point denying the castle residents potions just because I was a professor no longer. Besides I enjoyed the gentle bubbling of a cauldron, this potion in particular was pleasant; the smell of peppermint was strong and brought a heady seasonal joy with it. Not that that had much effect on my own mood. There was a scrape out in the hallway but I ignored it, probably just one of the other residents of this strange wing of the castle. The room of requirement still brought several surprises to everyday life. Once I had left my cup of tea on my desk and walked into my laboratory but before I could turn to get it, the cup appeared on my work table close to hand. Things that were stored out of reach suddenly were to be found at eye level. The constant shifting had been confusing at first but now I expected it. The other small changes still disturbed me a little, like when I realized that my chair was suddenly a cream color instead of green or when my work table changed from worn wood to polished stone sometimes right under my hands. Slowly I was starting to ignore them.

The noise came again but I could not be bothered to see what it was about. A twinge ran through my arm but not as violently as it had once done; the antidote was working, though I knew its current strength would flag and eventually fail against the poison. Already the pain that had been infrequent twinges was a dull constant ache from my finger tips to my elbow, and sometimes my hand was numb. I rubbed at the mark trying to soothe away the pain, knowing it would do no good. I glanced away from staring at the fire; my eyes not coming immediately to focus.

"Potter," I growled. He had merely taken shape out of the shadows that surrounded the hearth. "I cannot believe that even you would be so rude."

"I cannot believe even you would be so heartless." The comment was not rough as I would have expected but a gentle counterpoint to my own.

I felt the blood drain from my face. How did he know? "Draco told you, didn't he?" my voice was barely more than a whisper and there was strain in it. He remained blended in the shadows, only his pale face and hands were distinct in the low light; maybe his face and hands were the only parts of him really there, the rest of him just magic and shadow. It was a possibility that seemed more and more likely every time I saw him.

"He worries about you. I think he hasn't eaten or slept in three weeks." His stare was steady on me though not accusatory which actually made it all the more disturbing.

I shook my head. 'Foolish boy, why wouldn't he give up?'

I met his eyes; they were wide, fearful, and full of a child's innocence. "You don't deserve this, even I don't think that." He was subtly referring to all the years of animosity that sometimes stood as a shadow over us. I didn't hate him any longer but I had double life debts to him and that sort of magic couldn't help but grate at a wizard.

"Can't something be fair and not deserved," I asked musing, returning my gaze to the fire so that I didn't have to meet his eyes. His gaze had turned unsettling, too knowing, too honest. It was worse than having Albus stare at me, worse than Voldemort staring, though for different reasons.

He shook his head slightly but I don't think he was negating what I had said. It was self-deprecating.

"Do medi-wizards ever perform blood transfusions?"

It was a stunning non sequitur and it startled me into speech. "Why? Merlin! The idea of having someone else's blood inside your veins," I shivered involuntarily.

He actually blushed, but it was more for his ignorance than for my reaction to the question. "Of course, blood is after all part magic." He laughed and my skin crawled at the sound of it, so soulless. "What happens?" His voice was all curiosity; I wondered if that's what he would have sounded like in my class had I not shut him down on the very first day.

I swallowed, "You've seen how Draco shares some vampiric qualities… That bond is similar but more balanced than when wizards share blood. It's not done. Not done and not just because the ministry banned it. You understand blood type?" The muggle concept sounded foreign on my tongue. He gave a cursory nod. "It's like that and worse. It can work and with ritual it can always work but… It's complicated." I was starting to try to excuse myself from even talking about it. "Look, say two wizards do share blood… maybe one is forced to the will of the other. Maybe each is paralyzed because neither can even speak without the permission of the other. Maybe one becomes the other. Maybe they each become a hybrid of the originals. Always you end up as not yourself. And that's just the personality issues… Magic fluxes, flows, it snaps back and forth, wild because it stretches taught between the two; it can kill them, they can lose their magic altogether. All the rituals require that one becomes master." I found my fingers rubbing my temples and snatched them down to my lap.

"That's why…" it was a soft sigh from him. "You wouldn't even try it to save yourself from this poison?"

"Whose blood is an antidote to poison?"

"Dragon's blood."

I leapt to my feet and closed the distance between us so that we stood with our noses so close to touching there was no difference. "That is almost as bad as drinking unicorn's blood, and twice as arrogant." I growled.

He pushed past me, and took the small knife off my work table and cut his finger. He held his finger over a spare cauldron filled with water and dripped blood into it. A hissing steam rolled off the surface and seconds later a hole opened in the bottom and water gushed out over the table and to the floor, growing in a puddle.

"What the hell did you do, Potter?" I ran over to look into the ruined cauldron. There was an acid hole in the bottom but smoother instead of pitted. It was the reaction dragon's blood had with many things. I looked back at him, suspicious. "What did you do?" I growled again.

He held out his bloody hand, unnaturally dark red blood oozing, slowly now, from the gash on his finger. "Draco discovered it. It reacts with the poison, makes it less."

There was another twinge in my arm as if the threat of treatment made it more malignant. But I did not dare share his blood; he was too wild and I didn't have the control to exert my will over his own even without the magic balancing in his favor.

* * *

Snape shook his head, horrified. I had known that would be his reaction as soon as he had explained about sharing blood. "I can't, no." His voice was barely above a whisper. I saw the desperation though in part of him, the want to be free of pain. The ache was already there but it had not grown yet. I wondered if he would accept later if Draco found no cure. I didn't think he would.

"Goodnight, Severus." I didn't have to tell him that the offer would stand until I died; he knew I would not retract it. I left him, still standing next to his ruined cauldron the remnants of shock still on his face. The water dripped with a hollow ping to the floor.

* * *

I peered down at the cauldron. It had to be some sort of trick; his blood could not be like that. I shivered again at the idea of infusing myself with dragon's blood. The lore was not well known beyond the visceral reaction of fear at the idea. Wizards had performed that ritual in the past, when dragons had been friends. Then they had betrayed the dragons. That was really as much as was known, not how or why, just that they had and now no one would dare think themselves as worthy of sharing the blood of a dragon. The blood that had ruined my cauldron had pooled beneath it. The firestone under the cauldron undamaged by the blood had kept it from eating its way through the entire castle floor by floor (another small reason Potions was in the dungeons.) I collected it in a vial and stopper-ed it carefully. I studied it momentarily in the firelight but came to no conclusions.

I would send it to Charlie in Romania, he would know whether it belonged to a dragon, or to Harry Potter. He was the only Weasley I had been able to tolerate; he had been the quietest of the whole lot. Though after the twins had left my class I had been able to appreciate their talent in the subject, something I hadn't been able acknowledge with their constant disruption via explosions.

I wrapped the small vial carefully and wrote a short note to Charlie explaining as best I could why. Then I left with my owl on my shoulder to find a window. It might not take that long if Charlie had decided to come home for the break and spend time with his family but then it might just take weeks otherwise. How agonizing would it be by then?

* * *

I stirred carefully, watching for any change in the dark water. I wasn't really sure what I was looking for; I was just hoping it would do something. Over the weeks I had been working I had made little progress. There was something elusive about it, more so than any venom I had ever worked with. Vox had given up his vigil; he spent most of his time in the room but he did not hover like he had the first ten days. Admittedly I had needed that care; I had not eaten more than a few bites of bread, and would not even have touched that had he not shoved it into my hands. Slowly I realized that I would be unable to solve the antidote in a few days and had reconciled myself to the time. Now I slept, a little at least, a few hours each afternoon but the rest of my time went to brewing, each combination different. It had soothed Vox that I now took my own exhaustion into account.

I frowned and decided this potion was another failure. I kept a little of it, labeled it, and stored it with the notes I had used to make it. It might after all serve another purpose.

I turned around and found Harry leaning against one of the tables. His eyes were downcast, a faint blush on his cheeks; both abnormal for him.

"Harry?" I asked. He looked up.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." He smiled slowly and then frowned.

"What did he say?" I prompted since Harry wasn't being forthcoming, he was supposed to talk to Severus last night but this was the first time I had seen him since we had planned the talk two days past.

"It was as you predicted. Even presenting him with the more horrifying act of infusing Dragon's blood didn't help, he was just as adamant."

I nodded, disappointed even though I had guessed at his reaction. I wasn't sure that even if I had faced the same agony that I would have picked otherwise. Though I had to wonder if Harry's blood would even have the same effect when shared; it was so different from mine, from anyone's.

"Shame," I muttered, "it might have prevented its spread." I considered it worth the side effects but I was not the one that would have to live with the consequences. I sighed and started sorting through my ingredients looking for a little inspiration.

"Come on, Draco, I'm going to Sirius' house, why don't you take a break?"

I shifted a few more bottles. "I can't. You must know how I feel…"

"I do," he sounded so sad. "I'll see you at Remus' cottage on the solstice, right?"

"Of course." My smile was forced.

"Best wishes, Draco."


	51. Visiting Grimmauld Place

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-One: Visiting Grimmauld Place

I shifted into the room at the top of Sirius' house; the one Buckbeak had been kept in. It looked untouched, dust laying thick over the floor and empty shelves. I left the room and went down the stairs but it wasn't until I went into the front parlor that I found anyone. It didn't take long for Ginny to notice me. No one else did until she was halfway to me. Her embrace was half hug and half tackle. Hermione was equally enthusiastic and so was Ron in his way.

"Hello, Harry," said Luna in her reserved absent fashion.

"Harry, I've been so worried about you all. Why didn't you visit?" Hermione let go of me and punched my shoulder. I shrugged; the time had not been so long since I had seen them.

"Everyone's here mate." said Ron, and then his mood dampened, "Well not Fred or George, mum's mad at them for some reason. But Charlie and Bill…"

"I'm sorry Ron; I wish they weren't upset with each other." It was partially my fault in some respects; in all the respects that counted.

"It's alright. The twins invited us over later, so maybe we'll slip out. We haven't left this bloody house since we arrived."

"Careful about the language you use to refer to my house." Sirius stepped into the room followed by Remus. There was a second round of enthusiastic greetings. I knew both men had become uncles to them over the year Remus had returned to teaching.

I stepped back from the group feeling out of place.

"Dinner should be starting soon; the order is just finishing up a meeting."

"Ginny, Ron… didn't your mum ask you to set the table?"

Ginny flushed and darted from the room. Ron dragged his feet.

"Come on, if dinner's about to start, we might as well join them."

We traveled down the stairs into the lower level of the house but Remus and Sirius headed in another direction at the top of the basement stair. The stone kitchen was as I remembered, though strung up with so many lights it looked happy. I had no intention of eating but the friendly hubbub of a dinner table was worth the nuisance of probing questions about my health. Tesla and Neville were due to arrive soon. Severus would have been here but for losing his place as a spy.

I sat down at the end of the table. Luna sat down and Ginny next to her, their shoulders touching. Hermione sat down next to me, leaned her head on her hand, and stared at me. I ignored her look and played with the flame of the candle. Ron set the last placing and dropped onto the bench on the other side of Hermione. Conversation started slowly but eventually I forgot enough to laugh with them. The herons had all been touched a little too much by war not to be deadly serious most of the time. Even when we did laugh it was the sort of laugh that resulted from the shock at finding ourselves whole or else it was cynical. It was not long before the adults filed in somber and quiet, knots of them still talking. Tonks, a heart-shaped face and short black hair today, walked in with Sirius and Remus; she was certainly the most energetic of the lot. Sirius put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, laughing. She was his favorite cousin and he, hers.

Soon, food was floating to the table and just as the last dish settled itself, Neville and Tesla stumbled out of the fireplace and sat in the empty spaces left for them near our end of the table.

Peoples' hands darted out for serving spoons and soon plates were full, all but mine. Arthur had his wand out and was directing a bottle of wine around, pouring generous amounts into each goblet. It wandered down to our end of the table and to my shock it was offered to all the students though Ginny and Luna received noticeably less than the rest of us.

It was chilled and my fingers felt numb on the glass. There were several significant looks up and down the table, resting on me a little too long, glasses raised and sips were taken and I felt like they were honoring me though no words were spoken. I frowned back at them and refused to acknowledge their recognition with anything more than the pointed look.

Conversation was split evenly; the witch and wizard sitting on just the other side of Neville and Tesla turned their shoulders just enough to make it clear that we were not part of their conversation. My friends bantered back and forth. Neville was happy to see Luna and Ginny who he treated much like younger sisters.

But I remained silent, watching the other end of the table. Dinner was closing and more wine had been poured for everyone. Remus, Sirius and Tonks were laughing hardest, merry perhaps with the glee of being alive still, though everyone seemed giddy with drink. Eventually the strangers gave final smiles and disappeared by the floo network. It left only the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Neville, Tesla, Hermione, Luna and me.

It was suddenly somber. Molly was staring at me; she knew well enough that I was the source of rebellion among her children. Arthur was considering, and even Sirius, Remus and Tonks remembered the state of things. Tonks took an embarrassed sip from her goblet.

"Ron, Ginny, would you clear the dishes?" Molly's voice was sharp; certainly it was a demand not a request. Hermione and Luna excused themselves to help them and Neville and Tesla said their goodbyes and left. Conversation resumed between the older generation, but Bill and Charlie were left out. They stood up, rolling their eyes at their mother; love was there but exasperation too. As Charlie was following on the heels of his brother up the stairs, he lifted his chin to me and grinned.

I excused myself from the table, not that I really needed to with as little attention as I was receiving, and followed.

As I reached the top of the staircase, Bill snagged me and pulled me down the hall and into a hidden room at the back of the formal dining room.

"Sirius showed us this," he said gently.

"Harry, I'm sorry about mum, you remember how she was when Percy left… It's worse this time."

I nodded.

* * *

There was silence as we stared at each other. I didn't really know what to say to him; despite the fact that I had only been in his company a few times and not at any time recently, Harry had become like a brother and I held only concern for him. Bill was a little more distant about it but we both knew how the twins were about him. We had been in close contact with the two since they had left school, Bill hadn't exactly approved of their early exit but their immediate success had quieted him. In late September they had asked where we stood; being close to home they knew significantly more of the situation than we did. I had jumped to their side though Bill and I both kept our position in Dumbledore's order so that we knew what was going on. I passed on information to Fred and George and they to Harry, though they said that often as not he already knew, always touching his scar absently when he refused to explain how. My look drifted up to it; today it was an old scar but even as I looked it flashed momentarily to fresh wound and back.

I put my hand in the deep pocket of my coat; there was the faint crinkle of disturbed paper. My fingers clinched around a small vial. It had been a shock to receive an owl this morning, thankfully it had found me before I joined my family for breakfast or else there would have been awkward questions. Severus' rather distinct black owl was known to all the members of the order and Mum would surely have asked why Severus was contacting me and that could have easily ended in another row, especially if she did find out why.

_Charlie,_

_I know how unusual this will seem, me contacting you. You are the only person I know who works with dragons, at least the only one I trust. The vial with this letter is a sample of blood that supposedly came from Harry Potter. It has properties too similar to dragon's blood for me to believe that it really does. I would appreciate whatever you can tell me about it. Also if there is any lore surrounding this sort of thing I would like to know; it might mean someone's life._

_Please don't let anyone know._

_Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

I had only had time to visually inspect the sample of blood before shoving it in my pocket this morning. It did seem to be dragon's blood; it was viscous, heavy and most tellingly, had a tint of green to it, almost a sparkling.

"I'm sorry, this is awkward; we just didn't want to desert you in there with mum and dad. Mum's kind of upset with just about every one of us and she's put you as the root of the discord."

He laughed, "I kind of am, even Percy. It's alright; I have to say I understand." His smile left quickly and then returned, "How are the dragons?"

I jumped on the subject though in the back of my mind the letter and vial nagged at me, I almost told him that Snape had sent it to me. The conversation stayed away from all the troubles of today. The reserve I worked on was almost a separate world and the events that shook the rest of wizarding society seldom touched us. Even with only a few days back in England I was itching to return. I told them all about the egg that had been found and brought to us when it was obvious there was no mother. I had been chosen to mother it as long as I could without injury to myself. But it was eight months old and had not shot fire in my direction once. She was also only the size of a large dog, a very large dog, though normally by that age they were more than half grown. Her build was also odd, slender and snake-like, much more like the oriental dragons but while they didn't have more than vestigial wings, she did, true and powerful things. I had to wonder if she would ever bear a rider. Harry seemed quite charmed by the idea. I remembered I had a picture and summoned it from my room; it wiggled under the almost invisible gap under the door.

"She looks very sweet."

I had to laugh, "Everyone else said dangerous. I bet Hagrid would say the same though. I haven't told him yet."

"He'd be so jealous,"

"Yeah, though the department of magical creatures has come out to look at her and they say they think that she's not only a new species but that people could keep her kin as pets."

Harry grinned. "When I was growing up with the Dursleys I always wanted a pet dragon."

* * *

We chatted on until we were reasonably sure the dishes were done.

We left the secret room and went in search of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna so that I could bid them farewell. Before we were a third of the way down the hall, raised voices reached my ears. I followed the sound to one of the sitting rooms. I stopped in the doorway.

Molly and Ron stood across the room and both were flushed bright red.

"Ronald Weasley you will not leave this house!" It sounded like the third or fourth repetition of that statement

"Why not mother? Is it because I'm going to see your wayward sons? The ones who offered you protection and when you were going to expose us decided to protect the rest of us instead of letting that happen. Any of us can walk without fear of ambush and you were going to give away the secret. How long would it have stayed out of Voldemort's hands? An hour? A day? Certainly not more than a week… The one defense..."

Molly yelled over him. "Selfish, that bit of magic could have protected our side, saved so many people."

"Until Voldemort got it?" I was growing rather proud of Ron saying Voldemort's name, he wasn't even flinching, he was probably too mad to notice.

"I'm going to visit Fred and George. You can't stop me."

"Ronald!"

I didn't move but someone else must have because Molly looked at us, she was close to tears. Ron glanced our way but then looked back at Molly.

"You did this, you pulled apart my family." Her furious, teary glare was directed at me.

"I can't say that I did not, but I love you and your family, I don't want any harm to come to them. I came to say goodbye to my friends before I left. Goodbye Ron. It appears the rest are all upstairs." I turned coolly, and said over my shoulder, "Ron, I might suggest that you just go, you are a guest in this house, a guest of Sirius, not your mother. Goodbye, I'll see you later." It was for Ron's ears, I knew no one else heard, and only the last was audible to everyone. I climbed the stairs.

"Hermione?"

A door opened a crack, "Harry, are they finished arguing?" I nodded. "They do that every few days, so far Ron always obeys his mum but I think the tighter a rein she puts on him the farther away he's going to run and the longer it will take him to come back."

"I reminded him he is an adult and a guest of Sirius, free to come and go."

"Oh, Harry, Mrs. Weasley is already mad at you."

"I know. She made that quite clear."

Hermione sighed. "What can I do for you?"

I paused, "find a peaceful place to lay my bones," I wanted to say. "I don't know. I'm sorry…"

"I know, I'm sorry, too." She smiled sadly. Then she stepped forward and put her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder. Her embrace was brief but when she pulled away there were tears in her eyes. "Who would we have been, Harry?"

"I try not to think about it." She blushed realizing why. "It's okay, sometimes I can't help it, but all I ever come up with is that we will never know. We can't."

She nodded and wiped away a tear. "Adieu." The word was solemn almost despairing.

"You'll see me again." I wanted to laugh to show her it would be alright.

She smiled again. "I'll come on the solstice," she promised, "I almost have my Animagus form."

I grinned. "See you then."

I left her and went down the hall. I bid Ginny and Luna farewell, Luna was setting out Tarot cards in all seriousness but Ginny was rolling her eyes and laughing joyously.


	52. The Solstice

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Two: The Solstice

There was snow on the ground at Remus' cottage, not as deep as at Hogwarts, where the wards seemed to exaggerate the weather, but it was enough to make the world seem a special place. I trudged in from the edge of the anti-apparation ward and by the time I got to the door I had to dry my robes from the knee down. I did the same for Vox as he entered the cottage a few steps behind me.

The whole house had a glow about it, a warmth that was not physical, something I had not seen before. The fires in the manor may have blazed but they might as well have been ice as welcoming as they were. Five people were scattered around the place. Remus was pouring tea and, on seeing us, summoned another cup. Vox of course would not have tea but I would. Despite that, a cup appeared before the vampire, the result of one of Harry's thoughts. Vox took it from the cushion of air. Sirius was stretched out in an armchair, appearing very much like a large friendly dog. Neville and Tesla were sitting very close on the opposing sofa. I looked carefully around for Harry. He was sitting in the window seat staring out at the pale morning.

I settled myself at a table that had a checkered pattern built into its surface and gestured, asking Vox if he wished to play. He grinned toothily; it meant I was going to lose today and badly. Vox was an exceptional chess player as long as he kept his mind on the game. I resignedly set out my pieces taking white and hoping that the advantage might turn a rout into a mere loss.

We played three games before the other guests arrived at midday. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna tracked snow into the hall before waving away the icy water. They joined the circle around the fire and voices raised in merriment. It was precious to hear it, seldom as it was now. Fred and George were not far behind them, then Bill and Charlie, and finally Severus and it was frankly odd to see him in company. I wondered why he had chosen to come even; I had asked him but he had only offered to think about it, perhaps Harry had something to do with it. Or, knowing Severus, it could be something else entirely. Harry got up and wandered into the kitchen and after three more well thought out moves on the chessboard, lunch was served.

The afternoon was spent in lazy conversation and sleep. Many of us were not sleeping tonight because of the full moon. The four non-Heron students were returning to Grimmauld place but Hermione said she would be back for moon's rising. She was an Animagus too now though she had parried all our queries into what animal she turned into.

Ron and Ginny wouldn't be going back at all except they didn't want to break their mother's heart. Bill and Charlie were also returning to Grimmauld Place for similar reasons.

The twins however stayed since they were not wanted.

"Full Moon tonight," one said excitedly.

"Hands up if you're an Animagus," the other said infusing the room with his enthusiasm. The question left only Harry, Snape, Vox and Remus with their hands in their laps. Remus was sipping his last dose of Wolfsbane potion, grimacing over the taste, but even so he smiled that so many people were going to join his lunar frolic.

"So who's going to teach us?"

That caused a variety of reactions ranging from Harry and Sirius sharing bemused knowing smiles to Tesla's scandalized shock.

"You'll not have a chance to do it by this evening," she said.

The twins grinned impishly. "Just show us," they said together, "We'll figure it out."

Those of us who did have true Animagus forms traded looks; some of us remained skeptical. I did not transform, a horse was a little big for the cozy room, but the others did, Neville into a fox, Sirius into a large black dog, and Tesla into a bird with a red face and black quill like feathers sticking out looking like a frenzied secretary. It was obviously not a native to the British Isles, looking like it belonged in grasslands. Fred and George peered about as the others morphed back. As they smiled I remembered their little talent. I could hardly believe that I had forgotten that they could see magic, and I had to admit that I admired how smoothly they kept the secret.

"What do you think, Gred?"

"Looks like a synch, Feorge." They shook hands in mock seriousness and then morphed, slowly at first and then gaining speed as their bones started to snap towards their animal form. Fred became a small bear with a dark brown coat and George became the largest rook I had ever seen.

Harry started laughing, "Nice Fred, George, I think you certainly fooled them all."

I looked around, everyone's jaws were slack and I belatedly realized mine was as well. I had not really expected them to have such success on the first try, and I felt a little spark of disgruntlement at being tricked.

The twins morphed back and saluted Sirius and then bowed to Harry. That was a little much for Tesla who had worked on the transformation the longest of any of us (at least by a count of hours) and she hexed them.

* * *

I apparated back to the edge of the cottage wards after finishing an early dinner with the Weasleys. I felt a little guilty, I had told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that I was going to eat another meal with my parents, and that was a lie. My parents didn't recognize the solstice as anything more than the longest night of the year but the Weasleys would forget that. Ron knew and so did Ginny and Luna but none of them had mastered the Animagus transformation yet so there was no point in them sneaking out when they would be just as stuck indoors as they were at Grimmauld Place.

I trotted towards the door only to be met by everyone except Professor Snape exiting the small cottage. Vox was buttoning his cloak but there was no point in anyone else having one since they would all grow fur coats in a few moments. The sun had already set, leaving only the faintest glow at the western horizon, but the moon had not risen yet.

"Okay, Hermione, now you have to show us what you are." Neville said. I blushed; I had not had any reason to hide the identity of my animal, just the wish to frustrate them. I gladly transformed, knowing my own fur coat would be better than my fabric one. I hopped a few steps into the center of the circle, nose twitching. I was a white rabbit though I didn't know if that was just my winter coat and that if I transformed in the summer that I would be brown or if my nature made my fur white. That would be an experiment for the spring and hardly mattered now since there was snow on the ground. There were some congratulations from above my head but quickly everyone else was transforming into their shapes before Remus did. Vox did not; he leaned casually against Draco's equine shoulder, fingers twisting in the mane at Draco's withers. He was not wearing his typical robes but sturdy boots that reached his knee, black pants and a double breasted coat that flared at the waist. It was old-fashioned but he was handsome in it. It looked like he had dressed so that he could both easily run in the snow and ride, something I knew robes inhibited. Harry had again chosen to be a panther though his shape was still flexible since he had not found his true form yet (though I had to wonder if even that would stop him,) Neville was a fox, and Sirius his oversized dog. I had not seen Tesla's form before and I recognized it as a Secretary Bird, not exactly at home in the snow.

It was ten more minutes before the moon rose above the horizon and Remus became a wolf. Then we ran. I suddenly understood why they looked forward to it so much. We were free, we could forget that there was war, it was just us and snow and moonlight. Even being the smallest animal, I was not outrun we stayed so close together. The dogs chased each other and snapped playfully at the birds. Vox was running but his hand was still gripping Draco's mane so that he could practically fly as his steps left the ground in giant leaping strides. Harry of course grew bored quickly and shifted shapes, matching each of us for a few minutes as if trying it out. He spent the longest time as a horse, bucking and jumping about, but then he took wing.

Each of his forms before had been black or white never the faintest hint of color except in the eyes. This time though he was scarlet, the size of a swan. A phoenix. How could he? No wizard had ever been a magical creature, it was unthinkable. He swooped gracefully but then decided that the shape was not for him. He changed again into a tiny dove, white once more. That shape did not stay long either and he returned to the panther form.

We did not stop moving, though sometimes we went no faster than a walk. The snow deepened as we left the true forest and even at a full run it was nearly impossible to go very fast. After Tesla and George, who were both birds, I became the next fastest since I was light enough to run on top of the ice crusted snow. Though, the others all seemed to enjoy crashing through the white in showers of powder.

The moon passed the middle of her arc and was halfway to the horizon when Harry froze and looked back. He crouched, a low warning growl in his throat. The rest of us stopped, ears laid back in uncertainty, my sensitive nose twitched, something smelled wrong though it was the first time I had sensed it. Tesla and George wheeled and landed; George on the shoulders of his brother, Tesla, knee deep in snow. All the predators in the group took crouching tense positions, Draco and I, instinctively prepared to flee. I heard growls and howls in the distance, and instinct told me they belonged to the full moon. They possessed an unnatural quiver in them that I remembered well enough from the end of third year. I felt my hackles rise with fear. Already tense muscles drew tight. The howls stayed far enough away but human figures walked out of the distance, magic keeping them from sinking into the snow. One pushed a man roughly ahead of him, Snape I thought it was by posture. They came within fifteen feet of us, ringing us. Eleven wizards, there was one for each of us. I didn't understand how they would dare be unprotected on the full moon; we dared not change back for fear of being bitten. It left us with only our teeth and claws and whatever Harry and Vox could do. Nothing happened though, it seemed each side was measuring, weighing what the other side was capable of, or maybe Harry and their leader were just waiting.

With the suddenness of lightening, we all moved. The eleven wizards picked their fight with one of us, though I knew someone needed to rescue Snape, who was at the mercy of his captor. My size allowed me to elude capture for some time. Though, I had to be as careful of being trod on as being hit with a spell. Vox was vicious with his knives; there was a circle around him that no one would enter. Even so his knives flashed, deflecting spells off into the darkness. The birds also had an advantage. I realized exactly how cruel a beak Tesla had, she was a bird of prey and the species was best at killing snakes. How appropriate… George was a heavy bird and while not as fast as a hawk, dive-bombing proved to be an effective tactic. The others seemed reasonably matched even against magic though that was likely the twins' shields, we all had a set that whirred invisibly around us. The werewolves came leaping into the fray then. Their numbers matched the wizards, so the odds were now two to one, or would be if we had not already taken a few of the Death Eaters out of commission. The Death Eaters split up, the werewolves attacked Remus, Draco, Fred, Neville and Sirius, and the wizards attacked Harry, and a few occupied themselves with trying to capture the birds and me. Vox was also attacked exclusively by the wizards but that was because he bore silver knives and none of the werewolves were going anywhere near that threat. Harry became human again, but too shadowed for the bright full moon. The wizards landed no spells but not for the reason that I expected. I was so shocked that I stopped in my tracks. The spells approached him and slowed several feet away. The light seemed to unravel so that he had a hundred unfocused fireworks slowly dispersing around him. It was as if the air became too thick for magic to pass. He however was not paying them any mind, his attentions were on the twisting mob of animals and then briefly on me. Then I was snatched by the ears and stuffed in a sack.

* * *

I struck out with a hoof and caught the largest of the werewolves in the neck. I had kept eyes on Remus; thankfully he was not identical to the others who seemed made from the same mold. Remus was tawny rather than dark gray and scrawny by comparison to the over-muscled brutes that had attacked us. I hoped dearly that it was Greyback that had gotten his neck broken not that that would be a lasting hurt if he escaped and got help. I looked for Remus again, he had moved around to my other side and was trying to fight off two at once, but before I could join him Sirius had kicked off his own attacker and charged one of the two. I then turned my attention to escaping the circle and rescuing Severus. So far I had failed; each time I was blocked by two or more hulking werewolves. I was met with three when I turned, so I reared and struck down with my fore hooves, I made contact with the skull of a werewolf that was too slow to get out of the way. Leaping over the fallen werewolf I tried to escape the circle that way. Claws and teeth grazed my back and then jaws clamped around my ankle. I screamed and kicked. They let go but blood dripped too quickly from the wound. Then as I looked around there was a gap in the fight. I took it, galloped around to where my godfather was and knocked down his torturer. He was still capable of mounting though not well, his right arm was curled into his chest. We left as fast as I could run. I knew I was leaving a splattering of blood behind me but hopefully they would be too occupied to follow.

* * *

I had already earned a gash that laid open my shoulder but it wasn't too bad. My brother was still uninjured and likely would stay that way with the tactics he was taking. The werewolves were almost my size, we probably weighed the same but I was taller at the shoulder. One leapt for my throat and a heavy swipe knocked him off balance. My side seemed to have formed coherent pairs, Tesla and George were looking out for each other, and Sirius had just gone to Remus' rescue, Draco it seemed was trying to get out of the mob of fighting but I had seen his godfather at the wand-point of one of the Death Eaters, likely Draco was trying to save him. Harry was well and truly on his own, but there was no doubt he wanted it that way. I looked around for Neville and found him pinned on his back by a werewolf. He was clawing at the werewolf with all four paws but that was making little impression. I shoved the werewolf off of him. From then on, Neville and I stayed close together, he taking my protection gratefully.

* * *

I swerved to the left to avoid a spell even as I tried to watch the fight going on below. Neville was pinned to the ground and fear made me tremble. He was easily the smallest out there besides Hermione. I hadn't seen her since near the beginning of the fight but with her white coat it would have been hard without the chaos of the fight going on. She could easily have escaped into the white night. Draco had left, godfather on his back, blood trailing behind. George made another dive at a Death Eater. I circled and watched Harry. He was surrounded by multicolored light and as the Death Eaters cast spells it only grew. I made another circuit and came back after scraping one of the Death Eaters across the face with my talons. Harry's part of the fighting was frozen or near enough. I made another circuit and scratched a few other attacker's, I think even half-blinding one. Then as I flew past Harry again he sank to his knees one hand pressed against his forehead.

* * *

There was blinding pain and then my hands and face were inexplicably cold. Pain in my ribs and a sideways force made me flip onto my back. When did I lie down? Blinking back tears I squinted upwards, one hand still clasped to my scar. The pain waned enough for me to see clearly. Red eyes, stared down at me, cold, and no doubt disgusted by the show of weakness, the slits of the nose skewed by the twist of his mouth. I snarled and leapt to my feet stubborn against the pain that made me dizzy, made me sick. I felt vile standing next to him. I flung fire and ice at him, and was rebuffed like waves against a cliff. I felt the tickle of intrusion on my mind, and struck at that without really knowing what I was attacking, him or a probe of magic. He retreated from that front but a whip of flame slashed out from his wand. I sliced through it easily, and attacked again this time with daggers of solid air. Those were brushed aside lazily. Our fight was little more than a stalemate, defense and attack equal. I studied him; his dark wand swept with the casting of spells but in his other hand was a leather sack. Suddenly everything felt heavy, I had seen Hermione stuffed into that sack, and now Voldemort had her. I ripped at the sack, imagining it with a slash through it and Hermione freed and fleeing from the fight. Nothing happened. I tried summoning the sack, but it didn't leave his grip.

A cutting spell hit me in the shoulder, a dozen stinging wounds the length of my hand oozed, soaking my cloak with blood. I gritted my teeth and kept my focus on the sack, I imagined a seam splitting. Nothing. I imagined other ways for it to release Hermione, the leather weak and rotting or the knot coming untied. Again nothing.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said smoothly, we had both ceased casting spells at each other and both of us were straining over control of the sack. He using incantations and I just will and wild magic and desperation now. His wand flickered, and I imagined it snapping. He wasn't expecting it and the wood cracked, red phoenix feather now exposed to the air. His spell stopped. Whatever else he was going to say turned into a furious growl as I lunged for the sack. His loss of magic weapons and the physical attack won me the sack but his reaction was swift. His clammy fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. The protection that had been stripped away from me at the end of fourth year had reversed the effect, now it was I in agony at the contact. Not as much as when he opened the link between us. Even so it felt like I was being ripped apart, something was being stretched to breaking. I dropped the sack so that I could cling to that part of me. The draw strings at the top loosened and Hermione struggled out. Voldemort picked her up by the scruff of her neck and Hermione twisted so that she could scratch at his arm with her long claws.

"Don't move, your neck is a delicate thing and I'd hate for it to break." He hissed malevolently, and Hermione froze, rabbit eyes wide and fearful. I struggled to free her but he held us easily separate.

Voldemort pulled me up, his strength extraordinary, and in the process he dropped Hermione. Casually, he touched my scar with a finger, like it was an experiment.

I opened my eyes. Voldemort still had me by the throat, but now he was leaning over me where I had fallen. But he was not looking at me any longer. Through blurred vision I could still see that the others fought but I was starting to think that the tides were turning against us. I clawed at his wrist, then remembered myself, and shifted away from him. Voldemort turned, shocked.

"I see," he said, musing, "Pain, Potter. You are your own trap, and you'll be your own death."

"I am," I answered coolly, knowing it would grate at him, knowing he would know that it wasn't agreement. The words brought back control. I felt him open the link, and I felt the usual sickness, still all consuming agony, vision failed. How could he still do this to me? I pushed back but it felt like throwing pebbles while he was raining boulders around my head. He frowned though; I could feel that much doubt from him. I thrust at that, breaking the crack wider and wider. I was not winning yet, but I was no longer losing.

There were loud pops off to one side; the aurors had arrived at last.

He apparated with the white rabbit still in his hand. His followers, those not dead, disappeared with distinct pops.

_Author's Note: Oh dear, that's probably the worst cliffhanger I've ever written. I'm so very sorry about that._

_Regards,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	53. Aurors on the Solstice

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Three: Aurors on the Solstice

_There were loud pops off to one side; the aurors had arrived at last._

_Voldemort apparated with the white rabbit still in his hand. His followers, those not dead, disappeared with distinct pops._

I sank to my knees. He had Hermione. No… No, he had a white rabbit. I could feel in my mind the deceit he had tried, knew what it was this time, but I still did not see where she had gone.

New figures had appeared now, out of the mist of the early morning. It was still night, with true morning a good three hours off, but even so, it seemed lighter than it had been. The approaching wizards were in colored robes; red, the most numerous, were for Aurors, second was the grey-blue for law enforcement. They stepped forward with caution, wands raised.

I stood, absentmindedly drying my robes as they were now soaked from all the rolling around in the snow. I did a head count of my friends, Draco and Severus were missing, as was Hermione. The rest had formed a small outward facing circle. I could hear the low growls. I waved them down, knowing at least that the ministry, theoretically, would not try to injure us, and they couldn't if they did try. Sirius and Remus ignored me, keeping to their crouches and growls, I could hardly blame them.

A burst of light came from one of the figures and struck Remus squarely. I shifted to the young wizard's side, so close to him that he started and fell over. He lost his grip on the wand and I took it, tucking it into a pocket.

"You can have it back when you learn what threats need addressing and which do not."

The wizard gave me a stunned look. "But t t t…" he stammered, "we set up anti-apparation wards."

"That is well, I however didn't apparate." I raised my eyebrows at him and turned my back. Then the world went black.

* * *

Voldemort apparated out before the ministry wizards had a chance to raise wards against that mode of travel. Aurors flooded out of the darkness followed by law enforcement officers. They surrounded our small party easily wands pointed targeting one of us in an orderly fashion. I counted at least three wand tips aimed exclusively at my chest.

Harry stood; no marks obvious on him from the fight except the dismay in his eyes. He signaled us to stand down and we all did except Remus and Sirius. One of the younger recruits shot a spell at Remus whose shield caught it. Harry was standing next to the terrified young man in a flash. He exchanged words with him quietly, tersely and the Auror looked very close to fainting.

Then Harry turned around, clearly done with the auror, and collapsed into the snow.

I ran to him transitioning back to human even as I moved. It was a race to get to him first. Aurors had immediately moved to take him. I had the added advantage of a few strides as a bear and just managed to get there before them. I stood over his prone form, wand out, waving it like a madman in the direction of the aurors. They skidded to a halt in an arc before me wands out and aimed. I feared little from them, I knew the shields still worked; I could almost hear the magical whistle just outside of range.

"Don't," I shouted, my aim switched targets, threatening. There was a strangled noise from behind me, my twin's caw. The whistle increased and a flash of green got caught in the shield and whizzed half a circle around me before dying. Gasps rose, I suspected most of them had no idea, but the upper ranks… they would know, they would have to realize what it meant. I dared not look behind me to see who had thrown the spell, though I suspected George had already pinned the one responsible with his wand. "Back off," I said, I could hear the desperation in my voice and I wished it wasn't there. They took a few steps back. We remained in the stand-off for a long time. I could hear everyone breathing, my friends' ragged and heavy after the fight, they were almost silent, as if each was holding his breath. I saw the bustle in the distance behind the circle guarding us; it was officials sorting out the next step and with Harry out they had the advantage at the moment and they knew they had to move quickly. I think the only reason they had not moved already was the result of the first shot; how it had disappeared as if it had never been spoken.

There was a gasp from the figure at my feet.

* * *

My eyes opened reflexively. I was unsure what had happened, other than it had been instantaneously black. The few other times Voldemort had made me black out it had been from opening the link, this time was different and infinitely more dangerous if he knew what he had done. I scrambled to my feet, strength wavering. Fred was there, and I saw that he had offered a hand but I couldn't let the ministry see me take aid.

I raised my hands, not above my shoulders but enough to see I was unarmed, at least that I had no wand. That would be enough for some of them; I was pretty sure that they still believed I wielded one despite all evidence to the contrary. Wizards were inexcusably stubborn about their laws of magic when magic was proven time and again to be the exception to all rules. "Why don't we all lower our wands and we can discuss this." I said it softly and gently. "You saw us defend ourselves from Voldemort's followers. Some of you may have seen Him here as well. We have committed no crimes that you can prove."

My words had little effect. No one lowered his wand. We stared at each other for a few seconds until a man in a red wizard's robe pushed through, he had a mark of rank on his shoulder that named him head auror. "Your friends here are all illegal Animagi," he said gruffly, "we can arrest you on that charge alone."

"If you can prove that any one of the animals or even this young man are more than a figment of imagination than I will grant you the opportunity to arrest each and every one of us."

* * *

I had no idea what Harry thought he was offering and I was tempted to take off then and there. Being an illegal Animagus was a severe offense in the eyes of the ministry with fines that would break most wizards' wealth, not the Potter's, the Malfoy's, or the Black's maybe. With Harry's offer the head auror motioned for the investigation to proceed and each of us was approached by three or four aurors. I watched the four heading towards me and again considered going to wing and leaving. As it was I stretched out my wings and flapped indignantly. But as they came closer and closer, came within the reach of my wingspan my feathers fell through them. I was mist. It startled them and as I looked around the others were having similar experiences. The aurors looked around at their officer who looked as dumbfounded as any of them.

"As you can see, they are all part of my imagination, perhaps you are too?" The inflection of his voice made the last a question to chill the blood. Terror passed through the ranks and as I watched, Sirius, George, Vox, Remus, then my own body, Neville, and lastly Fred all disappeared. I was still me; I could feel my wings move, my head turn but I could not see me. Harry raised his chin ever so slightly and his gaze flitted out across the aurors. Each one he focused on started to fade, to become less visible. Wands fell from hands, strangled screams left throats. I felt my heart race and I was not his enemy.

"Is it just me on this hill alone in the snow?"

"It's a trick," the head auror stammered.

"Of course it's a trick." Harry snapped, his expression flashing to irritation. All of us snapped back to visibility and solidity. "But the question is not whether it's a trick, it's can you prove it's a trick." Then his voice lowered to dangerously silken whisper, "would you like to try again, Master Auror."

"No," it was a whisper, "no, but Mr. Potter, I hope you understand that for the law to work no one can stand outside its reach."

"I understand, but for now, I must, we must," he looked sadly over his shoulder and then back at the man. "I'm the only one that can match him," and then he whispered something else.

The Auror nodded and motioned his men back. He looked shocked that he was doing so but he did not revoke the order. It took a few minutes for some of the more zealous to stand down but as we started to outnumber the few remaining they retreated into their ranks.

"Thank you," Harry bowed his head slightly.

A few more words were shared between the two but either their voices were pitched too low for any of us to hear or Harry was blocking all attempts at eavesdropping.

I drifted closer to where Neville still stood as his fox. He had several gashes but none were deep. I was sure that that was Harry's protection being extended to us; as long as he believed us alive we could suffer no mortal wound. That didn't stop us from injury, but through a little luck and magic it saved our skins. No doubt as soon as Harry looked in our direction there would be no mark on any of us.

The ministry ranks fell back joined by their commander and then they apparated as if there had not been any conflict here. There had been no Death Eater prisoners; Voldemort had become too careful about that. I liked to think that it was because we were slowly eroding his ranks but I knew that was not the case.

* * *

Once the aurors had all apparated and I saw the tiny figures still standing in the churned up snow, my heart unclenched. Draco was leaning heavily on me; blood loss made him nearly delirious and I did not have enough potion to correct that damage. I had healed the wounds on his leg and back but even now he stood tenderly on the one foot. Pain from that wound would be lasting unfortunately. I was not good enough to prevent scarring, not after he had run on it to save my life.

The tiny figures looked to be moving. I raised my arm and shot red sparks into the air directing them towards us. They started trudging this way, no doubt walking because Remus was still a wolf and apparation would not agree with him. It would take them some time to cross the distance to the trees so I helped Draco sit down with his back against a trunk and then lowered myself so that he leaned against my shoulder with one of my arms around him. I set a small warming charm but it was not its usual strength since I had cast it with the stolen wand; my own was laying in pieces somewhere near Remus' burning cottage. I mourned its loss, the dark stained oak had been a no-nonsense kind of stiff and the core made of hippocampus hair had smoothed my casting. There wouldn't be another like it, though perhaps, with luck, Ollivander would have another that would choose me.

Before the others had crossed even halfway, a white rabbit came bounding out of the shadowy morning. It transformed into Granger, who fell to her knees on Draco's other side. She reached out a hand and touched it to his forehead.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, what can be done has been. He needs rest now, not cold fingers giving him chills." I snapped. She snatched her hand back as though she had been bitten. She frowned but then rocked back on her heels and tried to make her coat cover more of her. It took her a moment but eventually she remembered herself and pulled out her wand, casting the charm for the bluebell flame. Warmth started radiating from the droplet of fire that danced in the snow just before her.

We waited for the others to join us. When Vox saw us he led the charge towards us, stumbling to a stop and then dropping to a crouch and pulling Draco out of my arms. Concern and fear creased his brow. One of his pale hands snaked into the breast of his coat and pulled out a small knife, I was surprised he pulled that one out when I knew there were three or four up each of his sleeves. He made a cut down one of his wrists and his blood oozed slowly out, he put his arm to Draco's mouth.

Granger blushed and stood up to greet the others. I did too, feeling the slight embarrassment of watching something sacred occurring between the two. I felt wary at seeing Remus, but Black, still a dog, seemed to be keeping the werewolf back from the others. They had all maintained humanity for the walk, so it seemed clear that there was no fear from him though it was probably Harry keeping Remus from being a danger as much as Black. Harry glided forward; he, too, was full of concern though it extended towards Granger and me as well as Draco.

We didn't speak but I could tell that we were all taking stock of both our own injuries and those of our companions. There were clearly defined couples as everyone brushed off dried blood and magically wrung the wet out of their cloaks. Black, licking what could only be a cut on his leg, and Remus were sitting a little way off waiting for the moon to set; it would soon, already its lower edge was hidden in the trees on the far horizon. Neville and Tesla finished looking after each other and after a cursory look around at everyone else they sat down next to Granger's bluebell flame. George was looking after his twin, and while Fred made sure that George was not dying, his focus was on Harry. 'Interesting,' I thought and then I noticed that Tesla, Neville, and Granger were also inspecting his stance. So, too, did I, but Harry only looked at me and then sat down in the snow to wait, looking over his shoulder so he could see the moon and the two canines resting outside the circle.

* * *

I clung to Vox's shirt as he helped me lean back against the trunk where I had been sitting. I felt infinitely better, though the exhaustion still tried to pull me towards sleep. I wiped blood off my chin. Vox sat down next to me so that we were shoulder to shoulder. He was pressing his handkerchief to his wrist, red staining it. I reached over and held it for him. Then I looked out across our group; everyone seemed to be waiting for something to happen. No one spoke or even breathed more than they could help it. Sirius and Remus were sitting off in the distance, gazes on the moon. It was creeping downward, half shrouded in trees. Severus was standing a few feet away, his marked arm cradled in the other. I wondered how much pain he was in. He had been under crucio tonight and that could do him no good, perhaps it had even magnified the poison. I had come no closer to neutralizing it completely but the antidote with Harry's blood in it was stronger than the one Snape had designed. Snape had even started taking it while I continued searching. I wondered if he would give in and take transfusions of Harry's blood, I knew that would be far more effective against the poison but he would not. I shifted my leg, it was stiff and sore. Snape must have done what he could for it but that would still leave scars. I didn't remember galloping so far away just that I ran until I collapsed under his weight and that we had both toppled into the snow.

We all watched the moon sink lower and lower in the sky. Eventually, it fell below the horizon and Remus transformed. I knew there was agony in that still; even with the potion bones morphing into new shapes was unpleasant and the full moon's pull was not gentle. Sirius was there and human in time to support Remus. They both limped over to the bluebell flame that Hermione must have conjured.

Once they had seated themselves, Severus turned away from looking at the horizon and spoke. "I'm sorry, but the cottage wards fell and the house was in flames when I was dragged out. It's all ashes now even if the fire died when we apparated to where you were." His voice was quiet and unexpectedly sad. He had not been in the small cottage more than thrice before today, and still did not consider Remus or Sirius friends even if I did.

I shivered and Vox's arm squeezed on my shoulders. I still held his wrist in my hands, staunching the blood. It was probably clotted now but I didn't let go.

"Where do we go from here?" I didn't know who said it but it seemed like anyone of us could have; we were all thinking it.

Harry inhaled deeply and sighed. "We go home. Damage can be undone." Something was weighing heavy on him but I did not think it was the destruction of Remus' cottage. No, he was thinking about something else entirely or maybe not. Perhaps he was struggling to put Remus' cottage back together.

I rose unsteadily, "I see no point in remaining out here in the snow, let's leave this place." It struck me then why everyone was morose; Voldemort had attacked our safe haven; the cottage had been our refuge, the place we could retreat to without giving ground. He had ruined the night that was supposed to be full of joy and wonder. Harry was the only one that was constantly aware of how close we really were to danger at any given moment. I felt blindsided by tonight's events. The others rose, Hermione's spell went out and with nods to each other we turned over our shoulders and apparated to Remus' garden. The house stood much as it had when we left but now it felt like magic, made of magic.

I knew muggleborns were always confused as to why all wizards, even the poorest, didn't have mansions but this feeling was why. Magic was extraordinarily unstable as a building material. It could make straw as hard as rock certainly, often was used for that purpose, those spells did wear off eventually but building purely with magic was impossible. It was like building a sandcastle amongst the waves, impossible because the water kept shifting and you never had enough hands to make the sand stay where you wanted it. Wizards couldn't build with magic; they had to start with wood and brick the same as muggles. That didn't mean they couldn't do far better with those materials though.

Sirius was the first to step boldly into the magical structure followed closely by Remus. Both cringed like the whole thing was going to collapse to dust around their ears. Harry walked inside next and the rest of us followed. To the touch everything felt solid but there was still an overbearing sense of magic, almost a tinny smell, in much the same way blood tasted coppery. Then it disappeared, as if just because Harry had been able to hold the structure long enough magic decided that the wood and brick was real and not part of his imagination. Collectively everyone released the breaths they had been holding.

Harry sat down in one of the chairs and stared up at the ceiling. Fire burst into life on the hearth and the room was instantly warm.


	54. The Manuscript

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Four: The Manuscript

There was a collective sigh as the cottage settled into reality. Then we all went about our routines and fulfilled our rituals of tea, trying to act as if the attack on our special night had never happened. I could see that it bothered people and influenced their actions but no one was forthcoming about discussing it, especially not Harry, who had chosen one of the chairs close to the fire. A blazing fire was always a good indication that Voldemort was bothering him. Draco was limping ever so slightly as he moved about. I thought that strange since most injuries seemed to disappear around Harry at least ones he had not witnessed. Draco was tending a wound on Vox's wrist and Vox was drinking thick dark red liquid out of a goblet and sharing it with Draco much like friends might share a drink in a pub. Remus was the most obvious about his discomfort; he had disappeared into the kitchen and chased Sirius out shortly after the man had followed him in. He did bring tea out a little while later though he brought only two cups. He and Sirius sat down at the table and shared the pot silently and with many significant looks. Once they had finished, both retired to sleep. Snape had vanished almost instantly, and I suspected he was already returned to Hogwarts. Hermione too had gone away after laying a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. The gesture was barely acknowledged but that seemed to be enough for her. Fred and George contented themselves with games of cards that seemed to have sleight of hand built into the rules. I fixed myself a cup of tea after Remus had vacated the kitchen but I didn't know what to do for Tesla, she liked coffee better and there was none in the house. She ended up taking tea though she loaded it with sugar and cream. After an hour's reflection on the night I gave up trying to talk it over with someone and went to bed.

* * *

Soon enough everyone had left the room but Harry, George and me. George and I were taking turns drawing cards to fill our hands, it was the only way to ensure that the dealer didn't craft the deck to his liking, so that we could start a new round of Dragons and Faeries. Harry looked to be asleep, comfortably sprawled in his chair. I glanced at him while exchanging a few cards from the stash in my sleeve with the ones in my hand.

"I saw that," said George and handed me two more cards as penalty for getting caught. I groaned; he had ruined my sweep in flames that I had set up by handing me the dragon slayer card.

I wasn't too surprised that we were the only ones still awake now. It was not uncommon for us to stay up for days on end when working out the kinks in an exciting new line of product for the shop, (or rather the owl-order catalog as it had now become with the Death Eaters on one side and the Ministry on the other making investigations.) We were actually quite content to be inventing again instead of running shop, as funny as that could be with all the mischief we could play on customers. I set three cards down flipped one over and managed to steal another out of the deck while George was frowning at his hand. The fire suddenly blazed up in the hearth. I had almost forgotten that Harry was sitting behind us.

"Wotcher, Harry," I said, having stolen the phrase from Tonks.

"Hmm," he said not stirring. I turned around and looked at him knowing that would lose me the game and not really caring. George was better at the sleight of hand anyway.

Harry looked grimly at the fire though his gaze did shift uncertainly to me and back again. "Something wrong?" I asked.

He sighed, considering. "No," he finally concluded.

I gritted my teeth, feeling a little more than frustration with him.

"There is, I know there is, Harry Potter. You should talk to someone even if it isn't me. We'll not think less of you."

He looked at me again. "I'm afraid of what he can do to me. Everything I can do, he can undo. We are equal and opposing forces and every fight we have had has been a stalemate and it will go on being a stalemate until one of us gives way. We are at the very edges of our strengths and they are matching. There is no shred of difference to gain or lose with. How can I win?" The words echoed more in my head than in the room. Had they even been said aloud? Did George hear what I had; how could I know? Harry did not look at me again and the stiff set of his shoulders said he was at the least very uncomfortable. I glanced quickly at George, who only gave me a wide-eyed look and that didn't help me decide whether or not he had heard what Harry had said. I noticed he had not switched any of his cards though and that indicated distraction. George shrugged and carefully rearranged his hand, sliding at least one card out of his hand and up his sleeve. I didn't give him the customary two card penalty. I had pretty much lost interest in finishing the game.

"Why would you need to be stronger than him? He still believes in death. If you kill him he will die." What I said didn't really make sense to me, but the words somehow felt right and if I wasn't going to say them, then they would say themselves. Harry looked down his nose, at his hands, not unlike the way children do when they are trying not to cry. He turned them over, searching them as if he was searching the pages of a book.

I felt a tug on my hand of cards and spun to see George tipping them back to see what they were. I just dropped them. He nodded and picked up the cards.

I couldn't understand Harry's behavior. I was almost continuously dumbfounded for one reason or another. Why, why would he confess his fears to me? I was not his best friend or even properly adult enough to be a wise confidant. He didn't share what he felt with Ron, Remus, Sirius, Draco, or any of those he should have turned to first. He told me, as if somehow I would be able to relate. I loved him but so did the others. I had seen him share significant looks with Snape before. Maybe the two of us were trusted to be honest; him viciously so and me… just unafraid of upsetting him. The words I had said repeated in my head making less and less sense as I tried to understand them.

* * *

The rest of the break was eerily quiet. The Prophet reported no attacks from the Dark Lord's followers. Even for that though I could feel the pressure rising in the wizarding public. Still they demanded Harry's capture. I had gone back to school two days after the solstice and found my godfather haunting the room of requirement. I took up my work again worry still driving me ever towards the cure if there was one. Vox joined me but was inclined to wander about. So I was alone most of the time. The vial of poison sat in the shadow of the cubbyhole where I had placed it and whenever I found myself stuck my eyes drifted towards it.

* * *

Draco went back to school shortly after solstice and I went with him. He was not good company, but then I had not expected him to be. Severus's condition had not improved even with the best antidote Draco had created thus far. So Draco worked, from late in the afternoon, through the night until midday, and then slept for a few hours. I stayed with him for as long as I had patience but the silence and intensity with which he worked drove me slowly mad and I had to retreat. I went to the library most of the time, no one was in there at night and it was not difficult for me to get in even with the doors locked. My research had always been slow but now that I had read everything I could find on the subject I had run into a dead end. I flipped optimistically though a book on magical talents and inheritance but I had read all of it already. I sighed. The sun was starting to lighten the overcast sky. It was still early and with no classes the library didn't open properly until almost 11 on most days. I had heard Madame Pince though and she might or might not take kindly to finding me in her library regardless of how respectful I had been. I followed the heavy shadows of the bookcases out to the main door and left. There was little of interest inside the castle, though at least most people left me alone now. I walked aimlessly until I found myself outside. The sun had broken through the clouds and was shining brightly. I unfolded the umbrella and lofted it above my head and strolled down between the tents to Hagrid's hut. People did stop and look at me, some sneered but none raised a hand against me. I was grateful; it would be easy for the ministry to arrest me since I was still not registered under their foolish policy. I walked around the edge of the forest until I came to the oversized door. I lifted the knocker and dropped it; the noise sounded wet and resonant. There was no call from beyond it though, nor was there any barking. Hagrid was not at home and neither was his boarhound. I frowned pensively back at the castle, I was not ready to give up and go back to the dimly lit hallways. I walked around the building stepping carefully through the garden. Caution was always a good characteristic when visiting Hagrid; there was no telling what creature would be lurking. I did not see him though. As I was going around for the second time I heard heavy footsteps coming from behind.

"Vox," said Hagrid's rough voice. "I'm glad you came. Come in, come in." He was quick to cross the distance to his cottage and put a hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner. His hound which had not been far behind galloped up the steps, passed me, and nearly knocked me to the floor.

"Daft dog," he muttered though it sounded like distant thunder in my sensitive ears. He moved the kettle over the fire and pulled cups out of the cupboard. "You'll not take tea, o' course." He poured something into one of the cups and handed it to me. It was huge in my fingers; much more like a soup bowl than a teacup. "It's not as fresh as y' can get, but…" He shrugged.

I daintily took a sip, "Thank you, it's more than most would have for me." He smiled widely at the comment, a blush even coming to his ruddy cheeks. Conversation was easy, he told me about the forest and its inhabitants, it was not unlike the area where I had grown up. I missed the place sorely and the forbidden forest was the one thing that could make me a little homesick. Thinking of my family did not, the further I could get away from them the better, but the quiet woods and dark shadows had always been enchanting. I sighed, thinking about home and its now corrupted state. Hagrid stumbled to a halt when he realized I wasn't paying any attention to his words. "Vox?" he asked gently.

"It's nothing," I said and took another sip from the bowl-sized cup, "I was just thinking of home." Fang, the boarhound, came and rested his head on my knee.

"Oh, I jus' remembered." Hagrid said and bounded to his feet. He went to the massive desk and shuffled through the precarious stacks. Towers of books reached to near the ceiling, each with titles like _Dragons and Their Handlers_, or _The New Chimeras_. Others looked so well read that the script on the cracked binding was illegible. "Charlie Weasley came by just a few days ago looking for a book. He works with dragons, you know, best student in Care of Magical Creatures, o' course that was befer' I was teachin'. I swear he got himself into trouble just hoping he would be sent to work with me in the forest. Professor McGonagall caught on though and stopped assigning his detentions to me. Ah here it is," he said pulling a thin stack of paper, tied with twine. "Found it when I was looking through here for Charlie's book. He wanted _Dragon Lore_, can't 'magine fer what, he's read it a 'undred times already."

He handed the yellowing, heavy parchment to me. The cover page had, in handwritten script, the words, _Creatures: The Magic of Being_. I couldn't help but smirk at the title. The author hadn't put his name on the page. I untied the string and flipped through the first few pages carefully. It was clear that this was not a published copy, even in the first few pages were notes and places where the author or someone, had edited the manuscript. I doubted it had been published at all with the implications of the study. "Thank you Hagrid."

"I hope it's what you were looking for."

"I think it is, thank you. I should go check on Draco." Hagrid frowned, the history between the two was a stressed one though nobody had told me how.

"You're always welcome."

He picked up his cloak and followed me out, but went in the other direction. I trudged back up to the castle with the parchment cradled in my arms.


	55. New Information

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Five: New Information

I knocked cautiously on the twins' door and stepped back quickly out of the reaches of the spell that was sure to be on the door. It was a few minutes before it was answered. The door opened a crack, "It's just Charlie," George shouted back into the rooms beyond. He then swung the door wide and bowed mockingly. I had to laugh at the antics but the mirth was short. Fred came through one of the doors from the back rooms, buttoning his shirt, his hair was mussed and since it was only just now two o'clock it was likely he had just risen from bed. He grinned impishly, pulled his wand out of the back pocket of his jeans, and waved it vaguely at the kitchen. There was a bang and he went to investigate. I couldn't help but smile again.

I pulled out a chair, sat down, propped up my feet and scrubbed my face with my hands. The day's tension finally left my shoulders if not my mind. I sighed loudly.

"That bad," asked George who sat down opposite me.

"Yeah, I'll explain when there's tea poured." I knew that was what Fred was after in the kitchen. He emerged not two minutes later with a tray. He set it on the table.

"Hmm, forgot we had put the explosive powder in there…" He poured tea from the slightly scorched looking teapot and added moonshine nectar to it. George moved a cup in my direction and I took it.

"So, what happened?"

I sighed just with thinking about it. "I was careless. Do you remember how quietly Mum can sneak up on you when she wants?" There were nods from both; they knew better than anyone just how quietly. "Well, awhile ago, Severus sent me a letter asking about Dragons. I was drafting a letter back to him after doing a little research. She saw the heading on the letter and exploded. She had a good crying fit about how Bill was the only good child left. Dad told me to just go and come back after she had calmed down and would be reasonable." I sipped from the cup even though there was still steam rolling off the top.

"I'm guessing the greeting was more familiar than Dear Professor Snape," said George.

"Yes, it was."

"What did he want to know about Dragons?" asked Fred.

"I'm not at liberty to say…"

"It has to do with Harry, doesn't it?"

"uhhh," I faltered.

"Fine, say no more. _Accio_," his wand flicked and even though my hand clamped down on the pocket where the letter and the vial rested, they escaped my grasp. I jumped to my feet and stretched across the table trying to regain the objects. Fred leaned back out of my clawing reach.

"You can't read that, please, it's supposed to be secret."

Fred didn't open the letter, just held it. He looked critically at the vial, though. "It's alright, brother, we'll not betray you." He extended the letter back to me and I snatched it. "Do you know why Snape is interested in Harry's blood?"

"It really is Harry's then?"

"You didn't know?"

"No, Severus said it was, but with the evidence, I didn't believe him."

"Interesting."

George just looked between the two of us without making any judgments. I pushed myself off the table, shoved the letter back into my pocket and straightened my shirt and coat. I had not given up my handler's uniform because after so many years, anything else including robes was uncomfortable.

I didn't sit down and I was still mad at Fred but since he had confirmed it was Harry's blood… Well, it was one more thing I could tell Snape. The research I had done gave only hints at the full story and I knew that was not enough.

"You know Snape is poisoned," said Fred.

"No, I didn't," I was slightly shocked.

"You didn't think his questions suspicious, he is a potions master, wouldn't he know everything there is to know about ingredients…"

"I hadn't considered it; he asked me a straight-forward question and I sought the answer. Why wasn't entirely relevant, not when Harry trusts Severus."

"Well, it does matter to me," said Fred acidly.

I held up my hands. "Okay, relax, it's harmless, Severus wanted to know what happened between Wizards and Dragons so very long ago. No one remembers other than we betrayed them."

Fred examined the vial again then handed it back to me, meekly. "It wasn't my place." That was all the apology I would get from him.

I lingered with the twins until late in the afternoon. I drafted the letter and sent it with their owl shortly before I left myself to return to Grimmauld Place and hopefully a placated Molly Weasley.

* * *

An owl rapped on my window but it took me several moments to recognize the sound. I stood stiffly, my marked arm held carefully motionless. All the time now it ached, my fingers were mostly useless. The pain was already spreading through the joint of my shoulder. I went and unlatched the casing and let the bird in. It swept across the room and perched itself on the arm of the wing-backed chair. It shook out its feathers. I glanced outside, it was raining, and for that it was no wonder it had been desperate to get in. The bird was nondescript, the perfect kind of owl to send messages with. Not like Potter's bird, which was snowy, admittedly that might not be a fault in the current weather. I took the letter from the owl. It was damp but not really wet. The owl, then, had come from no farther than Hogsmeade. I dried the paper with my wand. 'My replacement wand,' I couldn't help thinking. Mine had been snapped before my eyes and even though Harry had conjured this one and it felt exactly like the old one, I could not help but think of it as a new wand altogether. I walked over to my desk and found the letter opener, slid the blade under the flap and ripped the top open. In it was a folded sheet of parchment and a small glass vial half full with a dark red liquid.

_Dear Severus,_

_I can only tell you what I know and I hope that is enough. In trying to answer your question I queried friends of mine and researched in the libraries available to me. Fear not, I did not betray your confidence to anyone but I must confess that the twins know more than you might have thought. It is a long story and I will try to keep it brief here. This morning, my mother kicked me out of headquarters when she saw the heading on this letter. I visited Fred and George and explained why I was showing up on their doorstep so unexpectedly. George was willing to take my words at face value, but Fred had more curiosity and decided it needed answering. He summoned your letter to me and the vial from my pocket. He did not read the letter but he knew instantly what the vial contained. I hope you can forgive my carelessness in this. I could tell from your words you wished the matter secret, even that you did not share the whole of it with me. As it stands, though, Fred is the reason I can confirm that the vial does indeed contain Harry's blood. How he knew is his own secret. More than this, I can tell you that the blood has all the properties of Dragon's blood; it is the same except that it flows through the veins of a human, not a dragon. Though, how both facts can be reconciled, I do not know. I'm sure you understand the complexities of my work, with it comes the legends passed down to each new dragon handler. Ages ago, thousands of years before Merlin, Dragons and Humans worked together, shared wisdom and prosperity. Dragons were free but some, not every, not even most, would accept a Companion. People called them Dragon Masters, but they did not master dragons, only befriend them. Dragons shared their blood with these men. Is this the case here… I cannot say. I did not think Harry had ever met a dragon except for the one during the Triwizard Tournament and I doubt she was fond of him after he stole one of her eggs. This is all I know. I hope it makes the difference. While I know you wish to have your secrets, Hagrid may know things that I do not._

_Respectfully,_

_Charlie Weasley_

That confirmed that the bird had not traveled far; I knew Fred and George had a flat somewhere in Hogsmeade. For all Charlie's apologies, I was only slightly peeved that they knew. They had after all seen me recently and knew I was not well.

I held the letter limply and stared out at the gray sky pondering. Did this knowledge change anything? I had objected to both solutions before; the first because it would force on me the submissive side of a Blood Bond, the second because of the arrogance of the notion, how could I dare share the blood of a dragon. Was Harry either wizard or dragon? Was he both? For now I still dared not take up his offer.

* * *

I slouched lower in my chair and held my book a little closer to my face, as if the words on the page could block out the world. It didn't stop me from hearing, though it would have been easy to ignore the whispered conversation from the other side of the room. I could have not listened, but something made me want to know what the argument was about. Maybe it was the people. Since the solstice Harry had been more… snappish, not with words or even tone so much as the way he settled his shoulders when asked a question or the twitching of his hands, almost impatient. Other behavior gave the reason. He sat so close to the fire that his robes should have scorched. He stared, or if not that he took too careful notice of things that should have been ignored, things like the pattern of snow tracked in from outside, or of the frost on the windowpanes. Voldemort must have weighed heavy on him; it was the only explanation for his desperate search for distraction. The second person in the fight was Hermione. It was not so much her involvement that made me want to slink away without drawing notice, but her tone. She was likely to get frustrated during an argument, often storming off to find the answer so that she could throw it back in her opponent's face. After that people stopped arguing with her pretty quickly usually. This time her voice was so pleading it hurt to hear it.

"Please, Harry," she said.

"Please, don't. I've told you why." There was a pause as if he was carefully choosing his words either to placate or infuriate. "I won't stop you if you choose to return to the castle but I still think it is best that you stay away; why is only a feeling, a doubt, a dread."

That seemed to make Hermione pause, as if it had not been part of the argument before. "I don't like being away from what's going on, it makes me feel vulnerable." That seemed convoluted at best.

"I think I know." Their voices were getting quieter. I only heard a few more words before Hermione got up and left. I turned the page in my book for the first time in nearly a quarter hour.

* * *

It felt odd coming back to Hogwarts after so long away. While I had given my studies as the reason for my return they were not even the tenth part of why. Over the last months I had felt desperately helpless and confined, and for those I had felt frustrated. The fight on the solstice had freed me and going back to the cage of Grimmauld Place would be an impossibility. So I arrived at the castle two days before classes would start again. Ron and Ginny had not been able to convince Molly to allow their return so I entered the castle without them. I did not go to the common room instead I went to the Room of Requirement. The Door was already there when I turned the corner as if my want for it was so great that it knew me before I even passed by. More likely Harry had set a charm to watch for me. I turned the handle gratefully. It was easy to find my personal quarters down the long hall of doors. I directed my trunk into my room and then cancelled the charm on it. I found the lack of greeting disconcerting but once I moved into the living areas Neville and Tesla welcomed me home. To them it was home, most of the residents had no place to go to but here, without accepting the hospitality of another. Neville had family but they were all in hiding, he would find only empty houses if he were to visit. Tesla, I supposed, had emancipated herself from her mother and I didn't know about her father. Draco and Vox had both been stricken from their family trees. To Harry, Hogwarts had always been home; I had always been able to see the hope and joy of his return every year, and the sadness of leaving when term ended. While the Weasley's and now Remus and Sirius had given him shelter, this castle is where he felt the world was right. Even now when his home contained sources of threat it was his safe haven.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

Neville shrugged, "around… Draco and Vox are in Draco's potions lab. Snape is very rarely seen. Remus left for a staff meeting and there's no doubt Sirius went with him."

"As an Animagus surely," I interjected.

"Probably, hopefully they are still in the dark about that." said Neville as he poured more tea.

"Oh, yes," I said. "You did not say where Harry is, I would have expected him here."

"He's probably out flying, it's not unusual when the day is sunny," Neville said.

"Or particularly nasty," Tesla added under her breath though I did hear her.

* * *

I knew Hermione had come back to Hogwarts. I couldn't say why I didn't like it, just that I knew she was not safe like the others. So, because I knew she was not safe, she wasn't and despite my efforts I could not think otherwise. Why were the others safe and she not? It was paradoxical and frustrating. When she arrived I left the room quietly to walk the halls. It was not often that I actually left, I sometimes went flying but it was rare that I wandered the corridors anymore. The whispers were the worst part of it and it didn't matter if I was disguised or not. Conversation was always on the war and wasn't I a central figure. Once, I had heard 'the boy-who-lived' whispered behind my back, now it was often, 'the next dark lord.'

I had stopped paying attention to my path shortly after shutting the door. I now stood at the other end of the corridor from the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. I had not come this way for a long time, and now the place felt foreign. I faded from view; there was no one about but it seemed appropriate that I do so. As I did I heard a grinding of stone; the staircase was moving. I moved closer, curious. The gargoyle moved sideways and out spilled Dumbledore and McGonagall. I pricked my ears for their words but didn't magically enhance my hearing. Dumbledore was cradling one hand with the other though why was not obvious. His pace was fast and McGonagall hitched up her skirts and trotted after him.

"…need Severus," said Dumbledore. McGonagall's lips moved. "Pomfrey can… She's…"

The whole thing was curious; I moved closer ghosting after them until pain blossomed in my scar. I pressed a palm to it as if that ever helped and squeezed my eyes shut. The episode was fleeting and I opened my eyes again. I was sitting on the floor. I frowned and apparated to near the hospital wing. It was not long before the professors passed my corridor as I had predicted. I was farther away but Dumbledore had unwrapped his hand, it was black and burned looking. I put it down to a fight; he commonly led the Order of the Phoenix especially if Voldemort was supposed to be there. Dumbledore, after all, was the only one he had ever feared.

I rubbed my scar again and walked away. Should I have gone for Severus? I didn't think so; something about suggesting he help seemed wrong. My evening prowl went on, past curfew and into the night.

* * *

Life in the Room of Requirement was lonelier than in Grimmauld Place with its constant comings and goings. I spent most of the two days reading undisturbed. I missed Ron and Ginny and even Luna but the fireplace in the common room was connected to the floo and I could visit them on a whim. Though I admit something kept me from doing so.

I was nervous about going back to classes, even with collecting assignments from the professors I didn't know if I was truly at pace with my classmates. Monday morning my timetable was on the desk in my room. It had not changed from before I left but I pocketed it anyway, then I walked out to see no one waiting to walk to class. I felt a little lost. I checked my watch. When I looked back up I saw Tesla gently shutting Neville's door.

She crept towards me.

"Are we the only ones?" I asked a little shocked. I had expected Neville at least if not Draco as well. I knew Harry no longer went to lectures, well, sometimes he did but I was always under the impression that it was a distraction, not any exercise of learning.

"Yes," she said sheepishly. "Sometimes Neville comes with me, but mostly he stays here and works in his greenhouse. Everyone else…" she shrugged and before she could finish her sentence I nodded; I knew well enough. We headed towards the door but not before I looked back down the hallway.

Walking through the corridors next to Tesla was quiet and felt strange. Normally Ron would be here, complaining about not finishing breakfast or how unfair this or that professor had been when there was Quidditch this weekend. I didn't know who had taken over Gryffindor's team. I was sure they would be hurting this season after losing their best seeker, keeper and chaser. Harry had resigned last year so his loss was not new. The rest of the team had been new to the game. Perhaps they would be great, working not from a regimented convention but from untrained reflexes and points of view.

I refocused on the hallway when I heard a bang but it turned out to be an overzealous second-year. It was then that I noticed the people. It seemed that after I had left very few students had departed, perhaps everyone who was going to flee already had. The corridors were crowded but not with the usual student black that was once a shifting monochromatic mass during passing periods. This morning less than half of the witches and wizards in the hall were robed in the student's black uniform. I felt sad at seeing it. We reached our classroom; a line was already assembled outside the locked door waiting for Flitwick to arrive. All four houses were in attendance but even with that there were barely twenty students when just last spring two houses of my year would have filled the classroom. With just minutes before the bell Flitwick arrived and trailing in at the last second was another student. It brought our number to twenty-two. I frowned thinking we would at least be twenty-six, if Ron, Harry, Draco, and Neville went to class.

I sighed when I thought of Ron. My freedom had made him jealous and petty in the last days of break. I could hardly blame him; I had not been good company either when we had first been sent to Grimmauld Place.

At the end of our lecture we departed. Our break was long enough to allow for a leisurely pace. After the sparsely populated classroom the halls felt crowded, the multicolored robes only added to the effect. The next class was potions. I had only experienced a few lessons under the new professor before I had been forced to leave. He was much more helpful then Snape had ever been and was a more natural teacher but his boisterous manner didn't seem appropriate for either the dungeons or the war.

The rest of the week continued in much the same routine. My worry had been unnecessary; I was not behind in any of my classes. After our last class on Friday Tesla was detained by McGonagall, so I went back to the Room of Requirement without her. Just as I was shutting the door Harry was shutting his own at the far end of the hall. An icy breath of air raced ahead of him as he approached with his mongoose at his feet.

"Hello," I said, it was the first time I had talked to him since I had arrived. I knew he still was not comfortable with my return.

"Good afternoon," he said. He turned and opened the door to the living room and held it open for me. I banished some of my books and entered. Vox was awake but I was under the impression he had only just risen, though truly it was difficult to tell considering his, as usual, immaculate turnout. I sat down on the sofa and positioned a book on my lap and shuffled through my notes, they needed embellishing in places. Harry sat down, a hand brushing across the scar on his forehead. His face was carefully blank; he had perfected that expression at least, even I was unable to tell if the gesture was to sooth away pain or if it was just habitual.

And so it was that I lived in the Room of Requirement, feeling almost as alone as back at Grimmauld Place.

_Author's Note: I have essays due this week so updating may prove to be difficult. I'm also entering the section of this story that hasn't been reworked so editing and rewriting will also take longer. Fear not I will not be gone forever, just ghostly until a week from now._

_Hope you enjoyed this interlude._

_Thank you and please review,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	56. A New Tactic

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Six: A New Tactic

I stood unnoticed in the corner of Draco's lab as he stirred one of the five cauldrons set above glowing coals. Only a month ago he had nearly thirty small experiments going and now, down to only five promising possibilities, the ferocity with which he worked might have been called feverish. Even now the stirring strokes of his glass rod were perfection. It was the fourth cauldron that was receiving the most care and caution though and I had no doubt that he had poured all his hope into it. During the past few days I had seen the same process, and each time one potion seemed to be respected above the rest, not that any of the potential antidotes were neglected. Today, from what I understood of his mutterings, he had combined all the little parts of his other trials, wishing more than anything that if he neutralized each part, the poison would be beaten. It was a theory that sometimes worked but as often was the case with complex poisons it was less than likely.

I sauntered over and sat down before the wide fireplace stirring the coals back to life. I flipped to a page of the document that Hagrid had given to me. The handwriting was inconsistent though not as though it was written in different hands but as if enthusiasm had made the author less meticulous as the draft went on. There were also dozens of side notes, these in others' handwriting, that at times were written right atop the original words. These were not always edits that improved the clarity, many, especially the long ones that ran sideways in the margins, or spilled onto the back, were in open and blatant protest of the whole hypothesis. Hagrid had warned me that that was the case and I had found evidence of that mindset in my other research as well. Overall it made it very hard to read, so much so that I had copied much of it, so as to separate the work from the graffiti.

I reread the introductory paragraphs:

_Magical Creatures have long been a subject of mystery and wonder to humans, muggles and wizards alike. Throughout the history of man, people have believed in creatures of impossible shape, or of mystical power, but their origin has been ignored, forgotten, and even invented. Here now is the truth laid before you. _

_There are two types of magical creatures. There are animals that use magic or are closely linked to it in one manner or another and there are those creatures that exist by magic. The first I shall refer to henceforth as magical creatures and the second creatures of magic. This is merely a distinction of words, one might argue that the phrases are interchangeable. I assure you they are not. _

There was a crash of glass behind me and I jumped up, paper floating to the floor, my knife was already drawn. Immediately I sought out Draco and found him leaning against the counter shoulders hunched. His face was away from me and he wiped a sleeve across his eyes. Then his hand settled on a bit of empty glassware. He hurled it at the wall; it shattered with a crystalline noise. He threw another three before I reached him, sheathing the knife as I walked. All were empty; potions were too precious to waste like that. I touched his arm. He spun towards me, then back around when he saw it was me. He wiped his face again with a sleeve, straightened his shirt and took a moment to compose himself. When he turned back to me I politely pretended not to have seen the moment. Still, there were the traces of frustrated tears on his face.

"It's not working, nothing is even close to it, a transfusion of Harry's blood is still better than anything I have come up with… and damn him he won't take that." His fingers curled around another flask.

"Draco," I said gently, "You have worked too long on this,"

"No I haven't, how can I have if I don't have the antidote."

"Leave it be for a time, a new idea will come to you," I said that with more confidence than I felt.

"I can't. He's dying. I can't. I can't."

"Fine, then forget everything that you've tried so far and do something weird, something that should be impossible."

He rubbed a hand over his face again and looked around despondently. "Okay," he said setting down the flask and throwing open the doors of his supplies cabinet. He pulled out ingredients of so many smells I wanted to gag and since I was standing close he shoved some of them into my hands. I followed him to a larger cauldron that was sitting on the floor off to the side and set the dried plants and the jar I was holding on the nearest table. He poured water into it from a hose, distilled well water, nothing magical about it, and lit the wood below it with a match. It blazed up the sides of the dark colored cauldron. I wondered briefly what the metal was but before I could ask Draco pushed a silver knife into my hand and a jar of something slimy. "I need seven of these, sliced paper thin." I was slightly stunned, the task was not something Draco would readily trust to someone else, but I went to work carefully. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him work. He looked less stiff, more carefree, as he dumped ingredient after ingredient in the cauldron. I hoped this would work; I didn't like to think what it might do to him if it didn't.

* * *

The room of requirement felt terribly empty. Everyone besides Tesla and Hermione, who both attended classes ritually, holed themselves up in their rooms for days on end. I knew well enough why and I had to admit that during January, I was inclined to do the same. This was especially the case if I had been fighting with Tesla. I found that solitude, if not cajoling, was, at least, appropriate. My words to Harry that night he had almost died still haunted my conscience. Yet, if I was being truthful to myself they were absolutely true. My fights with Tesla were generally petty, a wrong word uttered or an implication made, something so tiny it was impossible to believe it could set us at the other's throats. The guilt made it all the worse but I had no one to talk to about it. Today she was mad at me again because I had needed to stay in the greenhouse the last few evenings and would for the foreseeable future. I had explained that the harvesting process was complex and timing was everything but that turn down to her invitation to sneak into Hogsmeade had been unacceptable. I snipped off an old flower and nicked myself with the shears. I pulled my wand and muttered 'episky.' I stood and wiped the wayward dirt off my knees. The flowers along this row sneezed and blew puffs of pollen into the air. I waved my wand, pulling the pollen into a vortex and filtering it by size into three containers. Finished with that until tomorrow, I walked back down the aisle picking up my bucket and stool on the way. As usual there was the constant rustling of a magical greenhouse. I had to skip and twist out of the way of a few carnivorous vines. They should be dormant at this time, if they weren't fed in the next few days they would go back to stillness for several more months. As I passed by one of the trees I scraped a bit of moss off the trunk, I didn't know what it was, and put the sample in a vial, stoppering it with a cork. I could ask Draco if it was a useful potions ingredient and if he didn't know Professor Sprout would. After putting away my tools, I left the greenhouse with a flower in my hand. Tesla was in the common room when I peered around the door. She did not notice me, but Hermione did. I shook my head at her. I could tell Tesla was still mad; she was clutching her quill rather firmly. Hermione rolled her eyes, she thought we were both being stupid and we probably were. I turned around and retreated. Tesla's room was just across the hall from mine and the door was unlocked. I pushed it open softly, conjured a bowl with water. I floated the overlarge bloom in the water and slipped a note under the bowl.

The vials in my pocket clinked reminding me of my intention to get the moss identified. I knocked on Draco's door and there was no answer but when I turned the knob the door swung open. There was no one in his sitting room so I crossed over to the doorway into his lab. That door was open so I stepped in preparing to say something. Then I dropped to the floor.

There was a bang that reminded me all too much of my years of potions classes. I turned my face so that I could look for the source. There was a dark robed figure on the floor to the left of the biggest cauldron in the room and there was smoke and sparks streaming out of the mouth of the pot.

Behind the column of smoke there came a little laugh and then a large paper fan was waved above it. Draco immerged, face sooty.

"What the hell was that?" I called as I climbed to my feet. Vox was dusting off his shoulders and sleeves and glaring at Draco.

"Just an experiment," I was answered. I frowned, the last time I had been in the room, near the beginning of term Draco had not been so bright. His moods had ranged from brooding to thoroughly foul. Finding the antidote for his godfather was wearing on him. Now there was almost joy. Had he snapped, was this his madness? Vox must have seen the worry on my face because he came to stand beside me.

"Don't worry, he's trying something new, it stopped the stress at least. Frankly, I think it's the explosions that are helping the most."

I smiled weakly. "I won't bother him then," I said but I lingered watching.

_Author's Note: So another short chapter, but I thought you would appreciate it since I've been away and occupied with school work._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions _


	57. The Cure

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Cure

It was nearly April when I finished my experiment. Three months brewing was a long time, and admittedly the method was not efficient at this point but it was completed. I sighed again, running hands through my now long hair. I felt weak, exhausted, yet somehow full of energy. I barely remembered anything from the last three months except steam and sludge and stirring and chopping and skinning and slicing and pouring. Had I eaten, had I made conversation with someone during that time? I didn't know but this time I knew I had it right. Every step was mad, it defied all the laws in which I had been so carefully instructed. It was right. Even so I decided to test it. One glass beaker, poison, antidote. I mixed the two liquids. Nothing. It couldn't be, no this was right, it had to be. It couldn't be nothing. My heart dropped and sapped the energy from my limbs. I sought a stool before I fell down, then I sat with my head in my hands.

Three months, I moaned, three whole months wasted, thoroughly wasted. What a fool I had been. How could I have been such a fool? Vox... Vox had suggested the whole thing. He had said do something impossible. But I hadn't found the impossible antidote; I had done something foolish and wasteful.

I stalked out of my lab, white hot anger and blue black guilt warring inside. The door to his room slammed against the wall and rebounded. He was there, reading. How could he be reading, my godfather was dying! Merlin, had I even visited him? I leapt at Vox. He caught my wrists and I found that his strength was far superior to mine. Then I looked at his face. There was only concern in his eyes, no deceit.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"It didn't work." I gasped, for the first time despair filled me. Vox frowned.

"Come," he said, and led me out of the room. I reluctantly followed. He went to the very end of the hall and opened Harry's door. It opened onto a sunny day; he quickly lifted his umbrella above his head. I stepped out into the warmth. I felt robbed; all that time for naught. Vox took my arm and directed me to a chair, pushing me down into it. Then he sat down opposite. There was already a tea service sitting in perfect politeness on the nearby table. He bit his finger and squeezed the tip over my cup. He pressed it into my hand and I took it, sipping and tasting the metallic hint in the dark brew.

I closed my eyes, the sun heating me.

When I woke, the sun had not traveled far but I felt renewed. On the table there were two cups now. My tea and one filled with a red liquid. I took that one and sipped. It was his blood. Those words bounced around in my head, they were important, his blood, his blood, his blood, his blood. His blood. Harry's blood.

I stood, disturbing, chair, table, and tea service. I was back in my lab before Harry's door had even swung shut. There on the shelf was the vial of poison and next to it was the vial of blood. There was dust on the glass. I had not touched it all that time; I could barely believe it.

I took it reverently and pulled the cork stopper then I tipped the contents into the beaker that held the antidote and poison. Something happened. The mixture became clear.

It was done. It was perfect. It would save Severus.

Vox shoved a stool under my knees before I sat down hard.

* * *

The fire was warm at my numb feet. I had a book propped carefully in my lap supported by my good hand. The other was curled up, stiff, and, as usual, was agony to move. The skin was now so lined with that purple-brown that it was only that color. The soreness had moved into my feet as well though how it had bypassed the rest of me to end up in those extremities was its own mystery. I turned the page of the book, the page quivering with the shaking of my fingers. I was not really reading; I was too tired, so much so that I had slouched low in the large chair. I tried to shift higher, but only managed to jar my shoulders. A cry came to my lips but I only allowed it to pass as a quiet hiss. Light shone in through the windows of my rooms, it was late March, and for all that brightness it was still cold. I had never minded before, the dungeons of the castle where until just last November I had kept my office, quarters, and held my classes were always far colder than anywhere else in Hogwarts, but now I dreaded it. I decided that despite everything I couldn't sit still any longer. I got up, everything protesting, took up the cane in my good, my relatively good, hand and walked to the windows. The sun was warm through the glass.

To think, that I had not stirred from my quarters for several weeks. I hated letting Lupin and Black see me sapped of strength it was bad enough that Harry showed up uninvited on occasion. Why he ever did was usually unexplained. Sometimes we talked, about Voldemort and the Dark Arts or something else. The last time though we just stared at each other until he left, that was just last night. It had not really been that awkward just neither of us had felt like speaking. Sometimes I thought that he came to me when he had visions, like he wanted company but not company that would pester him. I was willing to give him that. I had not seen Draco for over a week now, he had visited regularly, almost daily, since we came back to the castle. I say he had visited, his body was here but his focus was clearly back in his lab. I had long ago given up on finding the perfect cure; there was only postponement, now. He was sure that he had it, sure that just a few more days and he would have the answer. How I wanted to buy into that shiny optimism. Even though I wanted to, I gently discouraged it, trying to instill realism. I doubted I was successful; he was a teenager and full to the brim with confidence. I sighed heavily and discovered a new symptom as my ribs ached from the over expansion.

It was getting worse. Every day, it crept along, almost imperceptible, until one day I would realize that I favored one hand and then that I hobbled more than walked. I was slowly forgetting why I had refused Harry's offer time and time again. I was starting to think it had just been pride; that the other reasons were just excuses. Blood bonds, dragon's blood. Both ideas turned my stomach, with dread and shame. I couldn't allow them.

In the other room I heard the door open and shut. It wouldn't be Harry, he didn't use doors. I hoped and dreaded that it would be Draco, his long absence was troubling. It could mean he found the cure, or maybe he had given up and couldn't face me until now.

"Hello," I called into the other room.

"Severus," it was Draco's voice. My heartbeat sped up. His voice was different from before, higher.

"In here," I answered. He came through the door, feet light. His hair was long, his shirt was wrinkly and un-tucked, there were dark smudges under his eyes; he looked tired, exhausted. But there was this look in his eyes, giddiness, pride, and defiance. Had he done it?

"Severus," he said, "I found the cure, it's perfect." Then why was there worry in his eyes.

"but," I prompted when he didn't go on.

He swallowed, "it only works if you share Harry's blood; it does nothing without it."

"No," I said and looked away from his face, afraid of what I would see there.

"Severus," he said pleadingly.

"No," I repeated.

We stood there. At the edge of my vision I could see his chest heaving, his feet shift, his fingers flex.

"Selfish," he said.

"Draco," my voice was harsh, "can you possible comprehend what the consequences would be of doing so. I can't." I dared to look at him again. For the first time I saw an un-composed Draco, his muscles twitched as if he couldn't decide how to stand or move, his jaw clinched and unclenched, and he blinked over and over again. "I can't." I said again, softly, willing him to comprehend.

"You're dying."

"No, that's not what this poison does. I'm myself and I intend to remain so."

"You're in pain, you can't deny that. Everything in your posture says that. That pain will drive you back, break you, and diminish you."

"I'll not do what you are asking."

He turned on his heel and fled.

I turned back to the window, hope gone.

_Author's Note: I'm back from the dead. If by dead you mean the company of hard-working students. I have no more essays, for awhile at least... so here's a new chapter to enjoy._

_Please review, really, please, it will make up for whatever marks I'm going to get on my essays._

_Regards and thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	58. On the Next Full Moon

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Eight: On the Next Full Moon

I folded the newspaper, irritated. During April there had been attacks every day. Voldemort was driving people to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. To me it would seem stupid to encourage your enemies into the same area, but I could see his plan. He was ready at last, ready to take out the last resistance. The numbers of his supporters grew; his words were enticing to those of us who had been mistreated by the ministry. His serpent tongue offered equality and opportunity in the new order. I knew better, I could see the sickness and corruption as plain as day.

I drowsed in the chair by the fire. It was the only way I felt comfortable resting anymore. Sleep had deserted me to nightmares a long time ago so I avoided it. My eyes were closed and I allowed my thoughts to drift ignoring the movements of the other occupants of the room. Hermione was there editing an essay and Tesla was reading, perched by the window.

I sighed, mind going blank and dark. Maybe this was what occlumency should have felt like. I doubted it. That technique had always been hopeless for me.

The idea of a room came before me. It was poorly lit, the shadows too present, like tangled seaweed. There was a massive table, long and lined with chairs. I stared down at half a dozen rolled scrolls. Another was laid flat and pinned with an inkwell. My eyes drifted across it not really reading, I knew what it said already. Words, nonetheless, popped out: Vampires, werewolves, giants, Full moon, Hogwarts. I heard footsteps behind me and turned slowly to address them.

There was a sharp pain and a shove. I opened my eyes to the common room. My stomach gave a feeble turn and I put a hand to my mouth to stifle the feeling of sickness. I always felt ill after encounters of that nature. It was an uncommon occurance of late but sometimes when Voldemort was concentrating on other things he failed to feel my presence. I never pursued the link, it just happened, like I was drawn in. I wished I could remember more of the letter but it seemed nearly impossible. Only 'Hogwarts,' and 'full moon' remained in my mind.

Apprehension settled in my stomach, 'Was that his plan: to attack on the next full moon?' It was just under four weeks from today. Suddenly I felt deeply cold. He meant this to be the last fight both for us and the wizarding world. One of us had to die that day.

* * *

"Have you come to chastise my decision too, Potter?" I snapped when the shadow next to the fireplace became solid. I had not seen Draco for two days.

"No," he said surprised. "I think you were very brave to spy for so long."

"You know quite well that that was not to what I was referring."

"Yes, I did, but I do not know to what you were actually referring," he said.

My eyebrows rose before I could smooth my expression. "Draco found the antidote; he says it's the perfect cure for Voldemort's poison."

"And you will not take it because it only works if you are blood bound to me."

"How perceptive, Harry," the comment was sardonic.

"Isn't that interesting," he said, he sounded bored. I knew it was a stab at me but I ignored it. No, that was not really the case, he really did find the idea interesting but something greater was pulling at his mind. I didn't ask after it though. If he wished me to know he would tell me. Harry actually moved to sit down in the chair opposite me and pulled it as close to the fire as he dared. "He's going to attack on the full moon.

He wanted to know something and had come to get my opinion. "You want to know what he will do. The werewolves will be moon-mad by nightfall, especially if they starve themselves, at that point but not changed. They aren't like Remus; they nourish that brutality and it makes them…" he was nodding, he had seen after all. "He'll let them go first to ravage Hogwart's defenses. Next or at the same time he will send the giants to break down the walls and the vampires, if they consent. Only then will his Death Eaters join the fight." His eyes should have flickered with horror, any other wizard's would have. He had lived linked to that wraith for too long. Sympathy stirred but I offered no comfort to him, I think he would have thought it cruel had I done so. "It's going to be the last fight, isn't it?" Perhaps the question was a foolish one.

He looked at me, lips thin. "The offer stands."

I frowned and he disappeared. It was a reminder that if he died there would be no cure for me. A little less than a month and one way or another it would be over. The thought made my stomach twist, knowing was always worse.

* * *

Severus was the only one that I talked to immediately about the upcoming struggle. Deep in my stomach the reflected anticipation told me that Voldemort would make this the last battle between us. He had every intention of being the one standing at the end. All I felt was dread, deep, dark, and despairing dread. It drove me outside into the slowly warming spring. I spent whole days and nights outside. Sleep had long deserted me to nightmares and visions and now I lived constantly with his emotions both in my head and acting on me physically. The combination of his and my own emotions was sickening. I saw the looks of concern the others gave each other when I entered a room, left it or really made any move at all. They knew what was coming even if they didn't know the day. I wished I could keep them from it but how could I?Neville now fingered his wand constantly as if he would have to draw it at an instant. Tesla, too, kept hers close. Remus and Sirius disguised the keenness with finesse, but even they often touched the holsters on their forearms for reassurance. Draco had adopted the habit of tucking his wand behind his ear, and while at first I had thought it a precarious place to keep it, the speed with which he could draw it was nearly twice as fast as even Sirius. That may have been the vampiric influence but Snape had stopped scolding him when he saw. Vox, of course, was always armed but he also seemed edgy. Hermione was the only one that had not developed that keenness, at least I didn't see it.

I shut my door behind me. I should have been drenched to the skin but with a little absent-mindedness I forgot it had been raining and my clothes were dry. I strode toward the common room door where I was sure to find Kenelm. He had flat out refused to come out side.

I was pushed against the wall and in reaction started to turn to smoke until I recognized Hermione.

"Harry, you look like Death is standing next to you." She eased up her hold on me. "Please, tell me what's going on.

"Voldemort is going to attack the castle. He means it to be the end. I don't think there will be NEWTs this year…" the wryness in my voice sounded false in my ears.

"Oh," the syllable was not surprised. It sounded sympathetic. "How much time?" The lines of her face deepened with worry.

"This full moon, a day before, maybe. I'm not so sure now, though I saw it, he's obscured it. All I can see and feel is this cloudy anticipation. Madness in a way, I think." The corners of her mouth twisted up but it seemed merely a defense against tears.

* * *

He answered me softly. Less than three weeks. Horror welled up inside me. This could be the end. I wanted to hug him until he admitted to the fear, but I didn't. Pity was inappropriate even if that's what I felt. I didn't know what to say, before I would have said we'll get through it, we have time but against the looming confrontation both were wrong. I met his eyes; at the moment he was not even an inch taller than me. Normally, he was not more than a few inches taller, unlike Ron who was easily a head taller. His shortness was real; not illusion, it was what was really there. What did that mean? Other things that he normally distorted were also true to what I would call reality. Was this a declaration of self, or doubt?

He was still standing there awkwardly, which was also out of the normal. We were each waiting for the other to make the first move. I knew he wasn't going to even if I stood here for a decade. "Then we should prepare." I pulled out my wand and banished the papers in my arms.

"This isn't a test."

"I know, but in some ways it's not so different. Do you think Dumbledore's Army is still loyal?"

"I don't want them involved…"

I overrode him, "Voldemort is going to attack the castle, I don't think there's going to be a choice. When they joined they knew the stakes, deep in their hearts they knew it would be a fight. Wizarding England is falling apart, dissolving. Have you seen the aurors and law enforcement wizards as they stumble in from outside the wards? I have, there's not a single one without a scar or a limp that magic can't fix. He's winning and we'll need everyone. Let them fight."

"I'll not let them die, help them get the younger years out, everyone, even the Slytherins."

I nodded, already fingering the gold galleon in my pocket. Plans started running through my head. Secret passages featured prominently.

* * *

Hermione left and I could see ideas running through her head about the safest most efficient way to go about achieving that goal. I was less worried now; the task might very well keep her off the battlefield. She was right though. The ministry was ragged; aurors straggled in at all hours of the day, injured, carrying comrades. The law enforcement was no better off having been co-opted for fighting troops as well. They had not abandoned their duty though. No one could.

* * *

Draco paced the length of the room, frustration, anger, and grief moved across his face in turns. He had just come back from talking to his godfather. I understood why, but I could not help agreeing with Severus. Blood Bonds were not things to enter lightly, especially between wizards. Voicing that opinion had earned me a glare and three days of silence from Draco though so this time I'd be keeping it to myself.

"Draco," I said, thinking to distract him though I wasn't sure how I planned on doing so. He whipped around in momentary panic, knocking a piece of glassware from the counter. He had not known I was in the room. The glass shattered and skittered across the floor.

He cursed, then took a deep breath and waved his wand at the broken glass. "Have you seen Harry lately?"

"Yes,"

"He's fretting. He looks at people like tomorrow they might be dead and today is the last time he will see them."

"Do you think he knows something? About an attack?"

"Maybe..." There was a long pause. "I saw him once... I had gone out to talk to him and I found him, sitting with his back to the railing, legs sprawled disjointedly. He had a hand against the scar on his forehead, his eyes were closed, his breath was long and pained. He didn't move until I had shaken him, and then he merely ran fingers through his hair and stood. His face had gone back to blankness. He wouldn't tell him what he had seen. Voldemort tortures him that way."

"Draco, I know you want to help him but he won't let you."

Draco nodded, barely, knowing I was right. "Maybe he thinks he is the one that will be dead not everyone else and he couldn't burden them with the idea." I nodded and then he continued, "There is something coming though, and he knows." For a moment he had seemed distracted from his frustration but then he added, "So does Severus." That immediately brought back his sour mood. I had to agree though. Anticipation was a heavy scent in the air. Everyone could feel it; it was obvious in the way they moved, the way they talked, and the way they were a little too visibly relaxed.

* * *

I felt ill with fear. I had just come out from my greenhouse in order to find Tesla and had stopped with my door half shut behind me when I saw Hermione and Harry talking in the hall way. I had missed the first exchange of the conversation but

"Oh," I heard in Hermione's soft voice, "How much time?" Her brow creased.

Harry's face stayed smooth, "This full moon, a day before, maybe. I'm not so sure now, though I saw it, he's obscured it. All I can see and feel is this cloudy anticipation. Madness in a way, I think." My heartbeat throbbed too loudly in my ears. I pressed myself against the frame of my door though why I felt the need not to be seen I couldn't say.

"Then we should prepare." Hermione said, resigned but as always determined.

"This isn't a test." The words had their own dry humor but it was too serious for any of us to even smile.

"I know, but in some ways it's not so different. Do you think Dumbledore's Army is still loyal?" My hand slipped instantly into my pocket looking for the coin. During fifth year I had carried it loyally. It had always been a comfort against oppression and loneliness. The coin was not there, I couldn't remember when I had stopped carrying it… sometime after Harry, Draco and I became the Herons, perhaps.

"I don't want them involved…"

Hermione spoke over him, quietly but firmly, "Voldemort is going to attack the castle, I don't think there's going to be a choice. When they joined they knew the stakes, deep in their hearts they knew it would be a fight. Wizarding England is falling apart, dissolving. Have you seen the aurors and law enforcement wizards as they stumble in from outside the wards? I have there's not a single one without a scar, or a limp that magic can't fix. He's winning and we'll need everyone. Let them fight."

"I'll not let them die, help them get the younger years out, everyone, even the Slytherins." I saw the trick; he intended to keep Hermione out of the fight. If only I could convince Tesla to do the same. Alas, it was more likely she would lock me in my room during the battle while she went out. I shivered gently and pulled my door shut behind me.

_Author's Note: There are two reasons this is late in coming. First, it wasn't right earlier. I'm happier with it now. Let me know what you think. The second reason is entirely not my fault. There was a server error._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	59. Dragon Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Dragon Friend

The Ministry tents had a thin sheet of frost on their canvas as I walked past this morning. The presence of Dementors away from the prison had increased and they were having a dramatic effect on the weather. I didn't think I had seen the sun in several weeks, not uncommon in the winter here, but it was April and between spring rains we had clear skies. Not now, it was always gray and wetly chill. I continued down the path hoping that I was inconspicuous enough that I wouldn't be stopped by anyone. I still held onto the jacket of my Dragon Handler's uniform even though I was on leave. The cut was distinctive but most wizards didn't know its significance. Those that did were generally occupied elsewhere but lots of people in the Ministry were curious about the new type of dragon and many knew I was responsible for her.

I sighed trying to remember what had led me here. After writing the letter to Severus I had returned to Grimmauld Place. Mother had calmed down enough to welcome me back. I did understand, in a way, how she felt, why she was so upset. She feared for our safety and our happiness. Her nightmares were filled with us being betrayed and murdered. She wished only to see us safe and like all mothers she never believed that we had grown up or that we were wise enough to judge rightly those we dealt with. I had remained as long as I could stand but I grew bored, restless, and returned to Romania and the dragons. I was never quite at home anywhere else. Unease settled over me after a few weeks away from the dragons and longer was torture.

Now, mere months later, I had come back at my mother's pleading. Upon leaving I found that the dragon I had raised refused to be left behind.

I came around the final copse of trees and stepped out into a remote glen. The place was far enough away that no one was likely to come this way and other precautions had been taken. I looked out across the slowly greening grass. At the other end was my dragon, Aisling, as I had named her. My heart fluttered like I was in love. She lifted her head from her prey and seeing me glided in my direction. Her movement was like water, it bunched and coiled, sometimes even collected itself in one place, one moment frozen, and then flowed on. It was like watching eddies in a stream. As usual I found my breath absent. She circled me once and stopped, head held level so that she could gaze into my eyes. It was the first rule I had learned, not to meet a dragon's gaze but I couldn't help myself with her. And yet none of the horrors promised us by the older handlers had befallen me. Aisling's eyes were turquoise and her brow crested with pointed scales; the combination gave her something like human expression. Her lips pulled back revealing gleaming teeth, fangs as long as my hand. White smoke drifted out of her nostrils and her serpent tongue flickered out. I reached out, slowly, delicately, and touched her nose. She leaned into the touch. Who knew what I was to her… father, mother, friend, next meal if her hunting went poorly… I had raised her and despite all my efforts I loved her as if she were my own child. I dropped my hand and walked on down the path. She stayed next to me much like a friend would, close but not touching until we came into a clearing and the sun broke through the clouds. I sat down on a flat rock in the momentary sunshine. Aisling stared at me for a long time. Then she sat down, body and long neck curving so that she could still be at a head height with me. I was starting to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Normally after acknowledging my presence she went off hunting or flying leaving me solitary in the depths of the woods.

Today was different.

Imperceptibly Aisling dipped her chin, as if nodding after discovering something pleasing. She moved even closer to me, coiled impossibly so she remained at my height. Then, she dragged one claw across the vulnerable scales above her heart. Blood started to ooze out of the cut. I jumped up, pulling a cloth out of my pocket but before I got very far her clawed fingers wrapped around my left wrist and turned my hand palm up. One talon pulled across my skin; it was so sharp that at first I didn't feel it. As soon as blood welled up in the wound she pressed the two cuts together so the blood mixed and flowed. I felt my heart beat faster, with fear, or anticipation and maybe with a little magic. I didn't know what was going on, not completely, but it felt like a ritual. She touched the knife on my belt. Did I need to do the same as she had? I clumsily unbuttoned my coat and shirt one-handed, to expose my skin, pulled the knife out and cut above my heart. She turned over her palm; I sliced as gently as I could. The knife dropped from my hand, it landed tip first in the soil and quivered to a stop. The dragon pressed her hand against my chest the points of her claws pricking into my flesh. Magical backlash hit with an explosion of color and then darkness.

When the world faded back in I was still standing. My hand tingled; the skin felt like it was stretching, itched like a new scar would. The dragon pulled her hand gently away from my chest. Flakes of dried blood drifted towards the ground. The wound was sealed, the scar still pink and new but not open. It had formed a distinct ridge and I knew it wouldn't fade like my other scars, nor would I want it to. She blew a hot breath into my hair and the whisper of wind past my ears formed words in my head even though they weren't spoken. "Dragon friend." My heart quickened and I stared at the scar on my hand, fingered the one over my heart. She sighed again, I knew she was laughing.

What had this done to me? Dragon friend, was I a legend now? Was I the thing we had all dreamed of being? Why me? All the legends wrote of powerful wizards, leaders, and wise men who became Dragon Friends. Yet here I was with the scars from the ritual. Were the scars the only mark? I turned my hands over, the nails were pointed but the change was not dramatic, like they had an angular cut instead of being rounded. I pulled out my wand, and waved it while saying the incantation to conjure a mirror. The spell worked, in a way but it was stiff and hard and the mirror was faint. It was as if the wand instead of focusing and enhancing magic had become a block to the flow. I frowned and pocketed my wand then tried again. The mirror that replaced the first was brightly silver, clear and perfect. It cast back a familiar image. Again the changes were small but in concert my face belonged to someone else. My ears were pointed, my nose was hawkish, and my eye color deepened to sapphire blue, pupils somewhere between round and diamonds. My hair stood on end and was wildly out of order. I grinned thinking if it were black it would look like Harry's. Then I noticed my teeth. I didn't just have fangs like a vampire; all my teeth belonged to a carnivore.

The dragon stood, took a few steps and launched herself into the air with one great shove of her hind legs and a powerful powerful down-sweep with her unfurled wings. My shoulder blades ached with the wish to be air born. That was the one thing I had not sprouted, wings. I had always dreamed of having my own pair. I sighed wistfully and watched the dragon twist easily in the air, floating more than flying.

Would she bear me aloft? Could I ask her to? Dared I? She had graced me; I should ask no favors of her. My eyes pricked at her beauty, shivers race across my shoulders and down my arms. I couldn't fly but from the ground I could imagine soaring with her and that was as surely sweet.

_Author's Note: My greatest apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I do protest that it was not my fault, there was some server issues, once again. Well, did you see this coming? I'd like to know what you thought, so please review: it's only polite._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	60. A Curse Undone

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty: A Curse Undone

For me the days passed in a haze, and yet each moment etched itself with perfect clarity in my brain. Each pleasant moment I made an effort to remember in detail and to embrace its sweetness. Though the unpleasant moments engraved themselves just as deeply and replayed themselves ceaselessly. I spent every night awake, stomach roiling with reflected excitement, an emotion I did not, myself, feel. In front of my eyes, my sights and memories of Voldemort were rehearsed. One night a man was tortured. I wasn't sure who he was, he had been tall while he still stood but he was broken of that defiance quickly. His hair was silvered at the temples but dark and wavy. His face was a blur in my memory except for the blue eyes and the wrinkles about his mouth. Voldemort pushed the link, and I could hear the man's screams as if I had been the one shouting, smell the blood as if my clothes were soaked with it, see his agony, feel it, and above that satisfaction. I thought it lucky that I had not been with someone else at the time. I had sunk to my knees, half supporting myself with the stone balustrade that edged my room. Tears had fallen down my face unchecked, and helplessness had consumed my heart. There was nothing I could do until the man died and Voldemort pinched off the vision, doubly satisfied that he had tortured two souls. Then I stood, legs shaking, determined not to allow the vision to cause me any more agony than for the moments I had actually been in pain. I did make a point of remembering the man; he had resisted the longest of anyone I had seen. I couldn't have forgotten him if I wanted to. Many of the victims Voldemort tortured while he force a vision on me were like him: strong until Voldemort broke them absolutely. I had no doubts that in addition to the pain he caused me through the link he was showing me my own fate at his hands.

The moon was bright that night, but it was waning, I had weeks left. Several more visions like that one plagued me, not every night, thank Merlin. The other nights when the bond was silent, my imagination made up for the absence by repeating what I had already seen. For the first time true desperation settled on me. I knew this was the end and I knew what would happen if I failed. Hermione spent a great amount of time staring at me, and I thought she might know how close I was to the edge. Edge of what, I didn't know, edge of something black and horrible. Something that I would find impossible to climb out of, a door that once through I could not reopen. I knew it was there, I could feel my hand on the doorknob, especially after a vision, when crossing that way would have been bliss.

* * *

One week. Supposedly one week, if what Harry had seen was correct, and I thought it was… I felt anxious, like I always had before a battle, but this was one I would not be fighting in. I had no strength for it. Miraculously, the poison had not worsened much though I was in enough pain that it hardly mattered that it had not. Draco had given me a wide berth the last three weeks. He could not reconcile my choice and it hurt him. The last time I had seen him he had looked healthier, not working himself half to death like he had been. Still I was unable to accept the antidote.

Oddly enough Remus had become a regular visitor, sometimes even with a sullen Sirius Black on his heels. He brought tea and occasionally would sit and talk for awhile, even grading papers in my presence, just to keep me company. I had had few friends on that order. I didn't know if he somehow felt obligated for all the years of Wolfsbane I had provided him with but even so… I was grateful, which surprised me as much as them.

One week… Always my mind came back to that, it could not be helped. There was a knock on my door. "Come," I said, expecting Remus again, it was about that time of day… Instead framed in the doorway was a familiar redhead. "Charlie Weasley," I said in greeting. I knew he had been around the castle, though why he had left far Romania to return to a war torn country I couldn't fathom. "What brings you here?"

"I came to tell you something." His voice was nearly breathless, he sounded nervous. He stepped forward into the brighter light. He was changed. His hair was wild, opposite from his carefully groomed curls of before. His eyes were a deep blue and his ears had subtle points. He flashed a grin; all his teeth were sharp points. "I think you'll..."

I cut him off, "What happened to you?" The question was inexcusably blunt.

"That's part of it… Last year someone brought an egg to the reserve. There was no mother so one of us was assigned to mother the dragon until we could no longer. I was chosen to do it. Then the dragon chose me. I'm a Dragon Friend now."

His voice trailed off slightly, sounding unsure and embarrassed. I, however, felt like bowing to the man. The magical world had no royalty, but Dragon Friends were pretty close. If he announced his bond to the public he could have the Wizengamot tripping over themselves to serve him. I almost said as much. Then as if I had doubted him he came within arm's-length of me and held out his hand palm up. A shiny blue scar traversed it. His other hand was undoing the buttons of his jacket. He pulled aside the fabric, exposing an identical, if slightly longer scar.

"I came to tell you… I know Harry Potter is neither dragon nor dragon friend, nor is he a wizard any longer, not really. If he offered you his blood freely you should accept it." His words were spoken softly but in my head as he continued his voice grew sonorous. Hope swelled, hope that I had not allowed for so many months. My paranoia jumped in, warning me of tricks, but Harry would not do something like this, and Draco was not capable of the magic.

So I squashed the feeling. "Thank you Charlie." Now to my shame I had to go back to Draco and accept what I had refused. I didn't know if I could be that humble.

Mere minutes later, after leaving Charlie with no more than half an apology, I pushed open the door to Draco's lab. It swung softly. On the other side of the room Vox stood with my godson. Draco had his back to me his hands curled up in Vox's, had he been crying? I was trembling though for the first time in months not from pain and exhaustion. Vox noticed me and turned Draco around.

Draco saw me and tried to turn right back around but Vox didn't let him, clearly sensing that I was here for a reason.

"Draco," my voice nearly broke from hope, doubt and regret, "Do you know where Harry is?"

He knew what the question meant. He raced across the room and hugged me with all his scrawny strength. He had not done that since he was six and I had gotten him his first cauldron and potions ingredients.

He started sobbing. I felt new guilt, I had passed his anger off as selfishness, but it was true concern. Vox left. Eventually, Draco let go. His eyes were puffy and snot was running out of his nose. He quickly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face.

"Antidote first I think," he said, voice firmly under control. He pulled out two syringes and a vial. He loaded one with the potion and came back to me. He rolled up my sleeve and sanitized the area with a spell. "Pomfrey should be doing this," he said but he stuck me with the needle anyway. The outer door opened and Vox walked in, Harry half a step behind him, seeming rather oblivious to why he had been summoned, until he saw the two of us, and then he walked over, rolling up a sleeve as if it was an everyday business to him. Draco withdrew the needle and set it aside. He turned to Harry and tied off his arm with something. Apparently this was going to be a muggle process. Something I had not expected but, perhaps the magic really was that fragile. Shockingly Draco was able to draw Harry's blood without grimacing; he'd gotten over his squeamishness then. He gave me the transfusion. It was small but even so, within a few moments I felt the magic start. We all watched my arm, even Harry who was holding a bit of cloth over where the needle had pierced him. Odd that, he could have made the mark disappear.

The change was slow but I could feel it like slipping into a hot bath after being out in sleet. Warmth soaked into my feet and hands and the pain ebbed away. Even the purple stain crept back to its origin. The dark mark itself reduced to the fine lined tattoo it had been in His absence.

"Shame, it won't leave completely," said Draco. Perhaps he had thought it would.

My hand squeezed his upper arm. "This is enough, it means my life." Draco gave a weak smile and glanced at Harry. Harry stood with his head cocked, mouth twisted. The firelight accented the gold rings around his pupils and slightly unfocused gaze.

Stinging pain wrapped around my marked forearm. I slapped my other hand over the source, and blood oozed out between my fingers. I glared at Harry, not understanding. The pain dulled, faded, and was gone. Below my hand was unmarked skin. No Dark Mark, no scar. It was undone, but not in the fashion Harry normally undid things, by believing it never happened, (perhaps he knew that my history as a spy meant something, and undoing it would be a crime against me, or perhaps the reality of Voldemort still held sway over him.) This time it was a true reversal. He had freed me.

* * *

Days left. I was in my room when the door ground against its stone jamb. I turned, Vox was there and a small smile on his face. I followed him back into the corridor and then to Draco's door. In his potion's lab stood Severus. Draco was administering something to him with a needle and syringe. I walked brusquely towards the two, rolling up my own sleeve. I watched as my blood was taken. I cringed inwardly remembering another time when my blood had been taken. Draco gave the blood to Severus, I could see the tiny tremble in his hands, doubting even though he knew it would work. Within moments the Dark mark was just a thin lined tattoo, still ugly and horrible, certainly, but not poisonous. I wondered if it could be erased entirely.

I pried at the black lines and they lifted away, dragging out a long curse. As soon as it was free, it unraveled and dissipated.

Draco hugged his godfather and Severus closed his arms around him, looking fatherly.

* * *

Somehow I had found it easy to guess which door belonged to Harry in the long corridor. It was at the very end. The door seemed both servant and king to the others, grand in some ways but ordinary in others, it was tall and arched but the wood was rough and not stained, and the iron handle, simple. I went to it and pushed gently, hoping I would be welcome on the other side.

It was not a room, it was outside. My heart swelled with the brush of fresh air. I stared up at the sky for an overlong period of time. Since the bonding the open space above me had a grander meaning than it ever had. For years it had been backdrop to Quidditch, important but beneath notice most of the time. Then it had merely been air above me, travel space but nothing special. Now it was home and refuge even if I didn't have wings to take me there.

"Hello Charlie," Harry's voice came from the other end of the wide walkway. His feet were dangling over the drop as he sat on the railing.

"Hi," I said. I closed my hands into loose fists to hide my nerves. Why I should be nervous I didn't know except that she was. She was clinging to the tower across from ours staring at Harry not unlike a rabbit at a fox.

"She's beautiful." He closed his eyes and rubbed at the scar on his forehead. His fingers then traced the one across his throat. I had only heard part of that story but it meant something if he had kept the scar, at least that was the case according to Fred and George.

Then all the tension went out of the air like smoke up an open flue. She flapped her wings twice and then glided over to grip the railing. She was small by most Dragon standards, though the Chinese Fireball was only on average a few feet longer tail to snout. There were even legendary African species the size of big dogs though nobody had seen those in centuries, they were probably extinct. She fit on the rail like a cat might on a cane, hanging limbs and tail and sides over the support but staying ever so perfectly balanced.

Harry looked her in the eye. Aisling closed her eyes and bowed her head reverently. Suddenly unsure, I stood awkwardly confused as to how I should act. I hardly understood. Then when she had straightened Harry bowed his head to her.

Harry sat down and looked at me. I started to bow as well.

"No, don't," he said, he was even blushing with embarrassment. "Please sit."

"but she bowed to you, should I not?"

"We bow to Hippogriffs don't we? It's nothing more than a greeting."

I sat stiffly; I had come to ask him a question that I wasn't sure I could voice now.

"I… uh…" I started, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said though he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them; he looked so small especially sitting next to Aisling.

"Why is your blood like a dragon's?"

He looked down and then away over the forest. "I don't know, maybe dragon's blood is like mine."

"Why though?" I persisted.

"I don't know," he said again.

"It's different from Half-Blood Curse, isn't it?" I remembered his condition even if it had stopped being circulated in the papers.

"Charlie, what does it matter?"

'Merlin he sounds so tired.' "Don't you care?"

"Why? I've always been singled out, what difference does my blood make?" He looked at me briefly. "Do you think I'm insane? That's what they say happens."

I stared at him, struck dumb by his coldness, even his disinterest. "I don't know. I was hoping you might know something… My blood looks like yours, but it isn't as strong. Yours is as magical as a dragon's, mine is just human with a tinge like they've been mixed in unequal parts."

"What do you want it to be: that I am a Dragon Friend and your blood will be that strong with time, that I am a Dragon, that I'm human? I don't know why, Charlie. I have no answers for you."

"I didn't mean to upset you." I said trying to placate him. "I don't know what to do about it. Anyone that looks at me knows something has happened to me. There hasn't been a Dragon Friend in thousands of years. What am I supposed to do?"

"Live," he said. I glanced at Aisling she was staring at Harry intently. I could hear her heartbeat pound in tempo with mine. "You don't _have_ to do anything, so do what makes you happy, do what fulfills your heart." He was telling me what he had always wanted and couldn't have. There was nothing I felt I could say to him.

_Author's Note: Well there is another chapter. I hope you liked it. _

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	61. Kidnapped

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-One: Kidnapped

I stood before the door to the room of requirement, alone and waiting. The first rays of moonlight were shining in the windows and the guard of empty armor gleamed in the niches. It had been a long time since Aurors had stood here; they couldn't be spared for a task they had failed at time and time again. At the thought of Harry, my lips twisted up into the semblance of a smile. Everyone, well everyone that lived near to him, knew he was breaking apart. The image he showed was becoming more disparate from the secondary shadows. He was planning something terrible, something to end it. I had no doubt that he was pricing it with his own life. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought; I loved him far too much for that.

For distraction, I held up the charmed golden galleon and next to it my watch. I had given three days notice, from the time that Harry talked to me, to all the DA members that still had their coins. I hoped they would answer, the need was great. Slowly the hands on my watch ticked closer to the appointed time. Far away down the silent halls I started to hear it, feet on stone. They could just be passing by, but no, a black robed figure turned the corner. He was wearing a yellow and black tie. Ernie McMillan. He strode down the corridor, pompous, as usual, but wasn't I glad to see him. Then others joined us until I was ringed in black clad students, house ties in disarray after the school day, some completely absent. Old friends and students I barely knew, all around. They stood about four deep. Everyone was there, except for those that had graduated, or been pulled out. News had been unreliable but I didn't think any of the DA had died in the last two years.

"Hermione," said Ernie, "We're here…"

"Thank you," I stammered. Had the club meant this much to them, that even after two inactive years they had all kept their coins, and checked them for just such a summoning. "Thank you for coming."

"We've all been waiting for the call. I, for one, have not gone a single day without the galleon in my pocket." I smiled at his boast.

"We need to go inside." With the words a door appeared. One of the students, a Ravenclaw, I barely knew, turned and opened it. She peered around, like she was a lookout and motioned the students in. Clearly the conditions under which we had first met had not been forgotten. I was washed in with the stream of students. Soon we were all inside with the door barred. This was not our quarters; the magical space had created something new for us.

I swallowed nervously; they had rearranged themselves in a semicircle before me, even ordering themselves by height so that everyone could see me easily. This was not what I was good at, public speaking; Harry had not liked it either, but he at least was good at it.

"Er..." I started, "I… Well… let's make a circle and sit." There was some scrambling as a peaking order was established. Ernie sat directly on my right and the oldest Ravenclaw, another seventh year, sat on my left. "Now, after I explain what is going on, we are equals. Our effort must be together for none of us can do what I am asking alone." There was some murmuring. They had expected Harry to be here, he had been the leader in the past. "The final battle is coming. The end is near. These are not predictions. Voldemort is planning to attack on the next full moon. The ministry and most of the Professors believe the castle is impenetrable, but Harry… and I believe that this cannot be a risk when our lives are a part of it. He has asked that we prepare to flee the castle with all the lower years. I have a few ideas…"

I heard disbelief in the ranks. I couldn't believe their ignorance.

Ernie stood up. "Look, people, what have you heard about Harry? The ministry has told us many things about him, yes? But how do you remember him? He has been brave, and honorable, and kind, and true. Have you let your own judgment be poisoned by malicious words? Harry has not been corrupted and if he asks then I will stand up and answer." He pulled out his wand and spoke. "I pledge my wand to Harry Potter." A light flared at the tip and died. The words were grand. Slowly others stood repeating the words. Lights flared and died looking like lightening bugs. I was still sitting at the end. Tears again welled in my eyes.

"Thank you," I said. Suddenly, as if they only just realized what they had done, they sat down sheepishly and blushed. Then the planning began in earnest. It was well past midnight by the time we were ready to leave and a plan had been staked out and details were starting to fill in the blanks. The one thing I had been worried about was reaching the Slytherins. Harry had asked that they too be protected. We were saved; one of the younger members had a sister who was in Slytherin and now a third year and by the way her brother talked it seemed she was a leader in the lower years. I hoped that that was true and that no one would question her. We parted for the night after tasks were set. Things had to be investigated before we went on so we decided to meet again the next evening.

This went on for almost three weeks until our plan had so many back-ups that we were, if not sure of our success, then the closest we could be. Hierarchy had been established so that each student had a responsibility and place, but that if anyone of us were to fail, or fall, the rest would not be compromised. I was apprehensive, but not downright worried, though I probably looked it.

Finally and regrettably it was a day before Harry thought Voldemort would attack. I had not eaten all day I was so sick with nerves. For the first time in months sunlight was shining through the windows and it was warm. I had paused to look out at the grounds. There was green grass, blue sky, and white puffy clouds. It was so unfair. I sighed and tucked some stray hair behind my ear. I shifted my book bag higher on my shoulder, fingering the stressed stitches and turned away from the glass panes to continue to my next class. I ducked down a shortcut and into a momentarily deserted corridor. Then the seam on my shoulder bag ripped. I scrabbled at my books but it all fell to the floor. Cursing I pulled out my wand to reorder the whole thing. Students turned around the corner. As one passed pain blossomed behind my ear and my knees went weak.

* * *

Hours left. Or a day if Severus and I were wrong. Remus and Sirius were staying close at hand for the evening for reasons unexpressed but obvious. Almost all of us were in the common room but no one had moved so much as an inch for several hours. I could tell from Tesla's posture that she was all ears, and Neville, pretending to read was just as alert. Draco and Vox looked up too frequently from their game of chess. Even Severus was in the room, a brooding figure at the window. The only person not here was Hermione and she was due back from the library soon. How could we be so still? How could we wait like this? Was it because it was the only thing we could do?

It had to be here, I needed to defend this place, my home.

The hour grew later, and later. The clock chimes had just died for the quarter hour, though I had forgotten to which hour that quarter belonged. It hardly mattered except that Hermione had not come back. Pain shot through my scar, and a momentary feeling of weightlessness touched me. Triumph, he felt triumph. Why? The question was brief in my head because I answered it. "He has Hermione." I tied my nerves together, so I wouldn't give away what I was feeling and stood up. But to do what? I couldn't rescue her, Voldemort had her, she wasn't locked in a dungeon that I could slip in and out of; she was with Him, kneeling at his feet bruised and beaten. I could see her, hair loose about her shoulders and tangled, eyes glowering, still defiant but doubting now, and fingers twisted in the folds of her robes. I left the room. All night that was the only thing I could see, Hermione being tortured; it pulsed like a terrible signal in the dark. 'Save me' she said and Voldemort had me paralyzed like he always did when he sent a vision.

* * *

I had fallen asleep on the sofa the night before. I had been unwilling, and unable besides, to part from company even for rest, especially after what Harry had said. I felt like my chair had been pulled out from beneath me. I didn't understand why Harry wasn't doing something to rescue her, but then I could think of nothing that would result in anything more than the both of us perishing at Voldemort's hand. It didn't mean I shouldn't try, and surely my brain ran through a hundred scenarios. Every time I decided on one and tried to rise and rouse the others, I found myself pinned by some impossible force.

Hermione had always been sensible and strong. I felt like, with her kidnapping, we had been broken. Harry had disappeared, vanished from the room like smoke. I felt twisted and hopeless. And wretched that it was Hermione that had been taken. Harry had known… he had known before the New Year that this would happen. Tesla stretched her hand out to me, fingers curling around my wrist. It was comforting; and unexpected after the way we had been fighting recently. Then again maybe it wasn't so unexpected, because I still loved her. I moved so that I could hold her hand, fingers intertwined.

* * *

The room seemed thick, like the air hadn't been stirred in a hundred years. While I was not content to wait it seemed like all we could do. Even getting up to see where Harry had fled to, if he was even still at Hogwarts, was beyond the capability of my legs. I had thought about doing so more than once during the night. I moved another chess piece on the board. I wasn't even sure we were playing anymore. The last thirteen moves had been worthless, gaining nothing. Vox touched the top of his bishop, and his remaining knight, then his rook, and finally rested on his king. He moved the piece one square to the left, the reverse of his last move. It gave me an advantage, but I didn't take it. He was thinking about Hermione, I was too, we all were. He liked her a lot, told me she was sweet to him, from the very start, when other people were still drawn back in fear. Admittedly, after all our years of hatred, I liked her too. I didn't even mind her obsessive studying now that I wasn't competing with her in classes. My heart felt heavy thinking about her. Having suffered at Voldemort's hands myself, I knew too well what was happening to her. I fingered a pawn, thinking about my next move. It was then that Severus stood and left, clearly he had broken whatever magick bound us.

* * *

I shut the common room door behind me. I had spent all morning trying to figure out why Potter hadn't run off to rescue Granger and I finally decided to get the answer. I walked down the hall and opened his door. It opened onto a balcony. The clouds overhead were dark, and heavy, but the air was tight, like it was refusing to rain. Harry was standing near the railing staring out towards the mountains.

"Why didn't you do something?" I demanded.

"Because I couldn't," his voice was low and thick with tears. "I knew this would happen. It's why I didn't want her to come here. She has always been one of his targets. He knows she's my truest friend. Not once has she deserted me. He knows that as true the same way I know things about him."

"I thought Weasley was the one in love with her." The comment was rude.

"He is and she is in love with him." That didn't answer what I had been implying and indeed he seemed to be oblivious to the implication entirely. That didn't mean he was.

"Does he know?" That could be about either thing.

"I have not told anyone." And so could that.

It was a no, though. He looked over his shoulder. I had seen his arrogance in the past; it had been illusion, a deflection. This was the truth. He was in turmoil, except the one thing that should have been there was missing, fear. Several reassuring things popped into my head to say to him but they all seemed naïve. So I stood there and watched the grounds, watched as the shadows changed, watched for the glimpses of sun through the clouds.

* * *

Pain arched through me, starting at my scar and ending somewhere near my heart. It felt like a bolt of electricity. My mind flashed from images of the wall and magnificent trees to sights of far off castle turrets. He was here, it had started. My hand gripped the smooth wood of my old wand; it had appeared suddenly in my hand. It was reassuring, even if I didn't need it.

The sun was almost down and the moon would rise not long after. The full moon. I turned from the vista and went back inside. I sent a message off to Dumbledore, though I couldn't imagine he didn't know because at least one of the wards had to have broken. I walked past the door to our common room and left. I heard the rush of my friends getting up to follow me. They had been waiting, ready. I wished they would stay behind, not face death. But I had to let them make that decision for themselves.

* * *

I was surprised when I realized I had spent the whole of the day standing outside, nearly motionless with Harry. I could hardly remember the time passing. I looked over my shoulder, thinking the door should still be swinging shut. It was firmly closed.

Harry's posture changed ever so slightly, his back hunched with pain, but that was just a flicker before he corrected it. Then he focused, a wolf come upon unexpected and dangerous prey. He peered in the direction of the thinnest section of the dark forest (a likely place for Voldemort to breach the ward,) almost out of sight from here. I noticed his old wand was in his hand. After the night at the end of the Triwizard Tournament that wand had become near to legend to the Death Eaters. In their ranks it was feared and loathed. So much so that others that had holly wands were distrusted. It was foolishness that no one would admit to.

His scrutiny of that section of the forest dropped off and he spun. Before him the door opened and he strode through. I followed him down our hallway pausing in the shadows further back as he swept past the door of the common room.

He didn't even pause. I had to wonder why… These were his friends; he had to know that they would fight for him with or without his consent. Could he not look them in the eye and tell them to stay safe? Or could he not look them in the eye and then lock them in for the duration of the battle?

I held back and watched the others come to the door into the hallway. Draco was there first, he glanced at the door and cursed, "He's already gone." Then he was snapping his hand up to his ear to retrieve his wand from its ludicrous perch and was racing out towards the entrance. Vox was on his heels. Vox was so edgy that he nearly disappeared in the shadows he was so desperate to evade detection. That must have been one of his family's talents. I wasn't sure it would help him tonight. Sirius and Remus were next. Sirius' eyes were shining with an absent grin but Remus showed fear. Could I blame him? Going out to fight on the full moon, he'd be exposing hundreds to his affliction, except he had resolved that this fight was worth that risk. Lastly Neville and Tesla exited, hand in hand; their faces read as calm, but their white knuckles said something else entirely. Were these to be the heroes of this fight?

Now the fight was here, it didn't matter. They were resolved to fight for their hopes and freedoms.

_Author's Note: And now it gets exciting. Thanks for reading._

_~Shifted Illusions_


	62. To Hogsmeade

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Two: To Hogsmeade

Once we were on the lower floors of the castle we fought against a tide of refugees that sought shelter in the castle. There were wards in its stones that were not on the grounds and it might keep them safe long enough. I didn't know why they didn't flee altogether… Now that Voldemort was here at the edge of the wards it seemed that it might be much better to be far away from here, Cornwall maybe. But then these were wizards who had not left the country when threatened. Perhaps I was being harsh; any number of them could have been going to the battlements to defend their school from there. Certainly battlements were better when fighting giants. I felt a squeeze on my hand. I glanced at Tesla and I could not tell whether it had been in reassurance or in want of it.

* * *

Tea was brewed and sitting neatly on the table. While we each had a cup poured, neither of us had sipped any. Restlessness had been part of the house for the last few weeks and it was starting to drive both of us to recklessness. I picked up my tea cup and brought it to my lips. Then I thought better of having any and set it back down. I saw George do the same thing a few minutes later.

The rest of the day continued like that. We went from distraction to distraction trying to keep our minds off of tonight. Everything failed. Just before sunset the bell rang. I leapt up and swung the door open, caution gone. Bill stood there jaw clenched.

"Dumbledore has summoned us to the castle." It was all he said before he apparated to somewhere closer to the wards.

We took up our brooms since that would be the fastest way anyhow and picked up our bags of tricks.

* * *

We were sitting in the parlor at Grimmauld Place, Ginny was reading, Luna was knitting and I was shuffling cards. There had been a feeling of preparation around headquarters for several days now, though the comings and goings of order members had been kept secret from the three of us. Mum was adamant that we not be a part of the war. How she thought that was possible was beyond my comprehension. My best friend and my girlfriend were at Hogwarts and it was unlikely that they would stay out of it. For Harry it would be impossible. And Hermione… for being a bookworm she was remarkably good at dueling. I feared not good enough… but then none of us really were. We had been lucky so many times and recently far luckier than our share. That had everything to do with Harry though, likely as not. I gave the cards another shuffle.

The footsteps around the house suddenly picked up speed. I turned around. Someone flew past the door at a dead run. I frowned and got up, Ginny and Luna no more than a few steps behind me. I leaned out the door and then pulled my head back in as two order members came hurrying past.

"This is it then," said Ginny from over my shoulder.

"We should go," I couldn't help but pass a fearful swallow. I was resigned to it; how could I have sat in safety for so long? My stomach roiled at my selfishness. "We must." I turned back to the room and strode confidently to the fireplace. The fire hot on my knees, I put my hand into the bowl left there for the Floo Powder. My fingers met only cool porcelain. "Empty."

I turned, nearly bumping into Ginny and Luna they had been so close behind me. They stepped back startled.

Movement at the door snapped my attention that way. My mother stood there, flushed face full of worry. Her hand was on the door knob wand in her other hand. "Mum," it was a strangled noise from my lips. I crossed quickly to her and threw my arms about her. I turned my head on her shoulder to look back at Ginny. She was giving me the most disbelieving look I had ever seen for my false tears.

She had caught on then. She knew I could get away with it too, since I was the first. It meant she would be stuck though. Wasn't that better? I felt a pang of guilt cross my mind as I side-stepped my mother and into the hall. Ginny made a rush for freedom, but before she closed the distance Mum had slammed the door and was rounding on me even as her wand flickered through a complex locking spell.

"Ronald Weasley!" The shout was not so much loud as an echo of my own guilt. I felt my face burning like it had during all our arguments.

"Mum, you have to let me go, I'm of age. I need to go. I need to help them. Can't you see? They're all out there fighting. Who would I be if I hid at home? I couldn't live with it. My best friends are out there and they would do more than die for me. I'd be a wretch not to go."

I turned away from her. Closed my eyes briefly, painfully knowing how betrayed she felt. Wretch indeed, how I could I have stayed away this long?

Behind me I heard her whisper, "Be safe." I would be; I touched the tiny pyramid that I had attached to my leather wristband, smiling. Then the banging started from the parlor door and Ginny's raised voice was muffled behind it. It wouldn't be begging but pretty close from her.

* * *

Ron stepped around mother, and she turned, slamming the door with enough force to make the chandelier shudder in the center of the room. I closed the distance to the door and rattled the knob. Locked, and mother was good at locking charms, you had to be with so many children, especially if two of them were Fred and George. I pulled out my wand and ran through the dozen or so counter-spells I knew. They varied from direct counters to others that cancelled wards and such. I tried the door again. Locked. I ran through the lot again just in case I had mis-cast one or another, unlikely, but… It remained firmly locked.

"Mum, you have to let me out. Ron can't go, he doesn't know any more magic than I do, Have you seen his grades, the only reason he passed half his classes is Hermione, and defense? Without Harry he'd be almost as shoddy as Cousin Barney."

"Stay here," came Mum's voice from the other side, stern but I heard the guilt. I tried a little bit more goading and coercing which had no effect. I paced lividly across the floor in front of the door, wand sparking occasionally. Luna leaned casually against the couch, chewing on a candy and even twirling a strand of her hair in her fingers. That made me a little more frustrated and I quickened my pace. Already I could hear that the pounding of feet in the house was declining in volume and frequency. Grimmauld Place was emptying; soon we might be the only ones left.

The house stilled. I went to the door again, leaned my head against the frame and tried the spells again. The door remained stubbornly locked. I turned and sank to the ground, searching for other methods of escape. The window and the chimney came to mind but the house had been proofed against intruders, those exits would also be firmly spelled shut.

"Do you have a hairpin?" Luna's voice came across the space like a whisper of summer wind. I almost didn't realize she had said anything.

"Come again."

"A hairpin, do you have one?"

Miraculously I did, though it would have been easy enough to conjure one. I pulled it out of my hair some of my long bangs swinging free. I stood and held it out.

She walked over with stunning absent-mindedness took the pin and held it up to her eyes. Her lips pursed, and she muttered the incantation to cancel the glamour that colored it blue instead of brass. Smiling with pleasure she bent to the lock. After a few minutes of fiddling she twisted the knob and pulled. The door opened. I felt my jaw drop. She walked into the hall and turned left towards the stairs down to the kitchen.

I stumbled dumbly into the hall after her. "How…"

She paused so that I caught up to her before the stair. "Some spells only protect against magic. The door was locked by magic and couldn't be undone by magic, at least not from our side…"

"but I conjured a key that fit the lock and tried that…"

"Hmm, conjurings are still inherently magic, the spell was probably sensitive enough to know that… it's why I took the glamour off the hairpin. When I physically turned the mechanism, the spell was fooled. Dad was always trying to get me to find the loopholes in spellwork. It's why he gets to print the Quibbler in peace. Most of the wards on the house are redundant but because of that most of the weaknesses go away. You can fool one, but not all, see? Your mum only protected the lock against magic… not a real key, or lockpick." She held out the slightly bent hairpin to me and I took it from her fingers. "Of course that doesn't always work… Actually it was probably only one in ten that it would… And the spells your mother normally does…

She spun back to the stair at the sound of a _creak_. I had my wand up before I'd even looked, jumpy as I was.

"Merlin," exclaimed Ron's deep voice. "I felt guilty after escaping mum, and hid while the order made ready and left. I was just coming to free you."

"Too late, Ronnikins," I said sourly and pushed past him on the stair. All three of us hurried across to the wide fireplace, dipped our hands into the powder bowl.

Then we all paused, "Where can we floo to? Hogwarts will be warded."

"The Three Broomsticks?"

"If the attack is going on, Hogsmeade'll be the first place they overrun."

"What about the Hogshead? Everybody forgets about that place."

"Yeah."

"Okay," said Luna dreamily, the first time she had chimed in for the whole discussion.

"Hogshead Inn, Hogsmeade" and Ron was gone in emerald flames. Luna tossed some floo powder into the fire place, stepped in and disappeared after saying the name of the inn, though this time without the location specified. I threw down the powder, said the name loud and clear, stepped in the emerald fire and spun away.

_Author's Note: Another day, another chapter. I have two essays to write this week so umm... hopefully I'll get to post more than this soon but I wanted to give you something. At this point, for some of you, I'm sure it feels like I'm torturing you... I really am sorry about that, really really sorry. Even so hope you liked it._

_Thanks,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	63. Dementors

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Three: Dementors

Fred was pressed flat against his broom urging all the speed he could get from it. I imagined I could see the bristles quivering with the strain, but then I was asking for just as much speed. Even so I was falling slowly farther behind only by feet at first and then dragon lengths. We sailed across the fence line. The ward that had prevented fly-overs since our fifth year had always been weak and it must have been the first to fall under Voldemort's attack. Voldemort had not attacked from the main gate but had come through the thinnest part of the forbidden forest. I could see his army there arranged and advancing from the tree line. We flew over them, high and hopefully invisible. Fred unloaded several of our prototype confundis bombs onto the ranks. It was a clever and quiet device that released aerosolized Confounding Draught when it went off and it was very strong initially, though the effects got considerably weaker far too quickly. Though, this most recent batch was a new formula that might have different effects than those previously tested. I followed him with several handfuls of good old-fashioned stink bombs, and then some of our more showy explosives. We left a satisfactory wake of destruction behind us. I glanced up at the castle. The refugee camp was stiller than a freezing hex. That was enough to indicate that at least some of our forces were waiting to ambush from there.

There were ranks lined up in front of the great hall doors and many more witches and wizards arranged on the battlements but Voldemort was still out of range of those. It was only then that the moon rose over the horizon. A chilling series of howls rose up from the ground; I shivered on my broomstick, pulling it up in an abrupt halt. Fred too, came to a stop, hovering just out of reach from me. On the ground, the front lines of Voldemort's forces jerked violently, the forms of the men there, pulled and distorted until nearly two hundred wolves stood crouched facing the castle. A roar of fire blazed to life behind them and they spooked from it. Voldemort had aimed them into the refugee tents.

"Merlin," I cursed. I pulled my wand from my holster and dove towards the tents.

* * *

George took off in the direction of the tents but I chose to stay where I was at least until I saw the rest of His plan. I looked across the trees, they rustled in great waves. Giants started to step from between their trunks. They were huge, like hills themselves. Their skin was pale gray in the moonlight and their forms were lumpy. They advanced through the ranks of Death Eaters, striding towards the castle. I shot toward one throwing fireworks at its face. The handful exploded bright red then purple then green. Its great arms lifted and its hands rubbed at its eyes and it staggered. I dodged its flailing and went after another, but I must have crossed into the light because it made a snatch for me. I wove out of the way easily but then spells were being directed upwards, someone had commanded the Death Eaters to advance and they had seen the simple thing I had done to damage one of the giants. There were thankfully only seven giants but that was more than enough to siege Hogwarts with. I twisted and then climbed. I'd be much harder to spot if I remained a few hundred feet in the air.

I drifted over the mass of the Death Eaters again and dropped a few detonators. A continuous symphony of explosions rose from below. In return, wands were aimed upwards and spells were fired without true aim. That caused me no significant problem; I dodged most of them. A few ran into my shield so I pulled up even higher for the time being.

* * *

I pushed the door open cautiously even though through the window the street was clear. We had stumbled into the common room in a cloud of ashes but despite that dramatic entrance there was no one there to witness it. I counted that lucky yet I couldn't help but be unnerved by it. The taproom was its usual filthy self but even with its grimy character there were almost always a few patrons. I turned back to the empty street looking for signs of movement. There were none.

"I think we should apparate closer to the wards," said Ginny.

"I'd hate to apparate right into You-Know-Who's forces; we have no idea where they are."

"No, I guess not." She was silent for a moment, looking over my shoulder. "Honeydukes shop, we'll use that tunnel, longer certainly but it will put us squarely in our territory."

"Does it seem cold to you?" I asked her.

"No, you're just used to London air."

Luna pushed the door wider, and strolled onto the street. Ginny and I followed; shoulders crouched as if we could be invisible just by being a few inches shorter. Surprisingly, she was almost as tall as me now. We went down to the nearest intersection and went left, staying off of Hogsmeade's main street where Honeyduke's, the Three Broomsticks, and now Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, all had their store fronts. Somewhere we would have to cross the street to get to the sweet shop because we were on the wrong side but I wanted to do that at the far end, up near the dirt path where we had met Sirius during the Triwizard Cup. I passed another side street that would have taken us to the main road.

"How far are you going to go Ron, we've already walked about twice as far as needed."

"We should go to the end. I bet you anything that he has Death Eater's up on these streets."

Ginny kicked a rock. "We haven't seen anyone."

"I didn't think you would be so incautious. You can't save Harry Potter and marry him if you end up dead on a street in Hogsmeade." Ginny's jaw dropped and her hand rose like she was going to slap me. I blushed instantly regretting my words. After all wasn't I going so that I could save Hermione? "Sorry Ginny, I shouldn't have said that." I lowered my eyes from hers.

Her mouth worked for a second while she shoved aside her pride. "Apology accepted. And… I love him but… I don't expect to marry him anymore." I looked up and Luna was nearly a block ahead of us. I picked up my pace to catch up with her but before I could a light shot out of the adjacent alley. It got caught up in her shield of course and zoomed like a comet around her before dying out. She had her wand out in a split second and was casting a series of spells down the alleyway. She was standing straight on, no dueling stance, but as if she was extending her hand to shake the hand of her attacker. Ginny and I skidded up next to her wands already out, spells on our tongues. There were two Death Eaters in the alley, robed in black with white masks. One fell, then the other.

"That was close."

"Let's get moving," I said and jogged up the backstreet toward the mountain path. Ginny and Luna were on my heels. We got to the end of the street and climbed the stone wall so that we could pass on the other side. The fence changed to a simple and neglected post and rail structure but the brush had also been neglected and grew up high enough that we could crawl past the gate. I stopped and looked through one of the larger gaps. A mere seventy feet down the cobbled street was a pair of Death Eaters. I wondered if they were looking for their compatriots. Ginny touched my shoulder and I moved on. We had to climb back over the fence to get to the back road that lead down this side of the street but it was easier because a bank of dirt had built up so that the wall was not so tall from this side. Ginny was the last to jump down from the top and landed in a crouch.

"Okay, now it feels colder." She admitted.

I jogged past the next few houses then slowed. I crossed my arms and hunched my shoulders against the sudden breeze that felt like ice around my collar. I pressed up against the stone building and ducked my head. My heart weighed heavily in my chest.

'Ron you are such a prat.' Hermione's voice echoed in my head. I instantly recognized the argument the phrase had come from. How could I not know it? It had played in my head and in nightmares in the months since she had returned to Hogwarts.

'You're just jealous that I'm choosing to go back instead of staying here with you.' The words had cut then but now I felt as if I had been impaled. 'Ron you are such a prat,' the line started over. 'You're just jealous…'

I opened my eyes and not a dozen paces before me was a dementor. Its dark and ragged robe caught in the breeze and its rasping breath sounded loud in my ears. It stepped closer and I was plunged again into a memory, another argument, this one also about Harry. It was just after the Goblet of Fire had spit out his name. 'You prat, if Harry says he didn't put his name in the goblet then he didn't do it. Damn it, Ron, you're his best friend, you're supposed to stick up for him not be jealous of him. He'd switch places with you in a heartbeat.'

I brought my wand up. The Dementor was much closer, within an arms length of me. My hand shook and I felt tears run down my cheeks. I was plunged back into those memories. It was like drowning in cold water. There were so many times when I had acted shamefully and selfishly. Jealous of the twins, of Ginny, of Hermione, and of Harry. A slimy hand clutched my wrist a second went to the back of my head. My heart beat loudly in my ears, jumping at my wrists and the joint of my jaw. Before my eyes was the great hall, darkened, except for the blue-ish flame of the goblet of fire. Behind me I heard the murmur of Fred and George bickering over the aging potion that had back-fired. It was over, the champions had been chosen. I was about to make a comment to Harry about how wicked it would be to have been picked except there was a crackle from the front of the hall. The student body turned from their chatter and as they did Dumbledore snatched a charred piece of parchment from the air.

"Harry Potter," he said, voice projecting over the suddenly silent crowd. Harry turned towards Hermione and me, face bewildered. I frowned at him. How could he betray me like this?

I rejected those feelings; he had needed me, my support. Hermione's small hand clutched mine. My heart swelled with love for her, though that was not how I had felt then. I pulled my hand free; in my palm was smooth wood.

"Expecto Patronum!" I shouted and silver light blazed in my eyes. The dementor released me. A silver rabbit battered at the dark shape driving it further and further back. A hare joined it from behind me, and then a horse galloped past. The three fought their way down the alley, lighting up the space around them.

"I thought your patronus was a small dog, Ron."

"It was, but that was two years ago, they can change."

"Sure, but why a rabbit?"

"Why a horse," I retorted. She was quiet after that.

There was a crash behind us. I whipped around, three Death Eaters piled into the street. We backed cautiously in the direction our patronuses had gone. Spells swept past us from the alley on our right. Death Eaters came from that alley as well; they were stuffed in it, maybe ten of them and perhaps even more behind.

"Run," I suggested. Ginny cast something destructive. Smoke rose in plumes but we were already down the nearest alley and turning towards the store front of Honeyduke's. Ginny cast a reducto charm at the glass window. It shattered with a tinkling of glass that was no doubt heard up and down the street. Death Eaters popped into the air around us, close enough to reach out and snag our robes. I leapt through the opening, Ginny and Luna on my heels. The three of us nearly fell down the stairs. I managed to get to the trap door first by leaping the railing. I yanked it open. Ginny and Luna disappeared into the dark. The masked men snatched at my cloak as I jumped into the hole pulling the heavy trapdoor closed with a bang that plunged us into silence and darkness.

I landed poorly and my ankle folded under me. A small gasp escaped my lips.

"Episkey," came Luna's vague and slightly breathless voice.

Ginny wove a minor locking ward, small in size but complex enough to stop a curse-breaker for at least a minute, and we sat there staring upwards for several long seconds before getting up and running down the low-ceilinged tunnel, magical lights bobbing ahead of us.

_Author's Note: Oh happy Friday, am I glad to see you. Please review._

_Cheers,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	64. Blinded

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Four: Blinded

Vox yanked me into an alcove in the wall of one of the courtyards before I could turn the next corner. His breathing was heavy but not gasps like mine. We had just managed to extricate ourselves from a fight near the green houses; originally it had been against just three Death Eaters but then six more joined them. They had pushed us up against the glass wall of one of the greenhouses and were closing in. Vox had gotten two with knives but we were pressed. Then an explosion went off practically at our feet. Glass shattered and Vox and I jumped through the window and took off running as soon as we had found our feet.

"Easy, are you okay?" He asked he had a hand pressed gently into my collar.

"Yeah," I rasped out, and then gave a hacking cough. A stone skittered outside we both jumped at the sound. Vox pressed us both back into the shadow of the niche, hoping no doubt that we could go unnoticed at least until I had my breath back. I peered over his shoulder. A man in dark clothing came around from the courtyard I had been about to enter. His cloak flapped and his walk was quick, but not stiff-legged. "Severus," I said and pushed past Vox. I repeated the name louder this time. Severus heard and made a beeline for our alcove, he shrouded himself in the dark space on the other side of the statue. I went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine. And you?"

"Fine," I reassured him. His hand went to my shoulder, thumb resting across my throat.

"That's such a shame," he hissed his hand tightened and hoisted me up the wall. Vox launched himself at the imposter just as Severus' face and body morphed to that of the Dark Lord, his red slit-ed eyes stared up at me struggling to breathe. Vox was thrown away with a mere flick of his wrist, smashing into the statue and landing crumpled. "Crucio," Voldemort's lips curved into a smile. Vox writhed on the ground, whimpering. I clawed at the back of Voldemort's hand and kicked weakly but my limbs were starting to feel like lead. Several more Death Eaters came around the corner. Voldemort glanced away from his victims. "Ah Lucius. I'm I right in thinking that you would like to deal with your former heir."

Lucius made a shallow bow. Voldemort dropped me like a cat suddenly bored by a mouse. I fell into a heap, breath gone, limbs tingling as oxygen returned. Voldemort had not released Vox from his torture.

"Expelliarmus," Lucius said lazily. I tightened my grip on my wand but I didn't need to, the spinning shield pulled the spell to the side. Lucius clenched his teeth and stalked up to me as I was trying to recover my feet; I ached. He cast something dark, a spell he had not taught me and it went right through the shield, though it was pulled off target and only hit my arm which wrenched like he was trying to pull it from its socket. My muscles seized and I lost my grip on my wand. It rolled away clattering on the stone. Lucius approached grabbing my elbow in his hand and yanking downward. Already weak I over balanced and went down on my knees. He kicked my side, sending me sprawling. I made a grab at my wand but missed. I ended up on my back, winded. Lucius was already crouched one knee pinning my hips, his other crushing my upper right arm. The other was still useless from his earlier spell. I twisted under his grip but he was half again my weight, even if I was only an inch shy of his height. I knew my wand was close if only I could get it.

He leaned in close, "How dare you taint the blood of the Malfoy house-hold."

I spat at him, the only defiance I had ready. "So you found out your son would rather have a vampire than the pure-blood witch you had picked out." I laughed at him. "What face you must have lost amongst your friends." He grabbed my chin.

"You'll regret defying me the rest of your life."

"I doubt it," I managed to grind out still straining under his grip. But then right above my nose was a blade, short, but glinting in the moonlight. He brought it down. My eyes squeezed tight before the tip touched but it dug deep into my flesh.

I screamed and bucked. That whole side of my face was agony and tears flooded down my face, and blood. Then my hand felt something slender and wooden.

I brought my wand up aimed blindly and there was an explosion. Lucius was blown sideways.

* * *

I cast several more imaginings across the Death Eaters closest to me. The dozen of them hadn't noticed me standing in the lee of a large stone. That was partly because of the shadow, but it was also part of my own magic. The Death Eaters stumbled as the earth rocked beneath them. Several fell to spells from other fighters since their balance was not good enough to dodge. A wizard on a broom swept by dropping a concussing spell in their midst. That seemed to remove the rest from the battle so I moved back towards the Entrance Hall doors where the fighting had grown more furious, a reddish glow flared briefly behind me. Two more of the Giants had been felled and I had to skirt around the feet of one of them to make it to my goal, a small rise to the side of the path. I looked for werewolves in the dark since I could incapacitate them when few wizards could without the aid of silver. I hoped at least some of the fighters had been wise enough to carry something silver with them. I spied one down the hill some ways, fighting with three witches who were only just keeping the creature at bay.

I abandoned my vantage point and aimed a silver bolt at the werewolf, imaginary crossbow drawn. Then my scar split with pain and I collapsed in the grass. I writhed as Voldemort settled himself in my head. I saw what he saw. Draco groaned and kicked at the end of my upraised arm. Vox leapt at me from the left but I flicked my wand at him. He crumpled under the cruciatus curse. Draco kicked frailly. I heard my followers approach behind me and looked over my shoulder.

"Ah Lucius. I'm I right in thinking that you would like to deal with your former heir."

Lucius made a shallow bow. I dropped the Malfoy heir but didn't bother lifting my curse on the vampire.

"Expelliarmus," Lucius said. The spell got pulled aside. Curious, it seemed he too had a shield constructed like the mudblood's. It was a shame I hadn't managed to remove that one. It hardly mattered, dark spells generally worked anyway. Lucius cast a blood curse, the only type we had seen make it through the shield. I watched bored, wand trained on the vampire, a few of the other masks had joined in on the torture. Lucius got his son on the ground and pinned him with physical strength instead of magic, how crude.

"How dare you taint the blood of the Malfoy household."

"So you found out your son would rather have a vampire than the pure-blood witch you had picked out." His former heir laughed at him. "What face you must have lost amongst your friends."

"You'll regret defying me the rest of your life."

"I doubt it." Lucius dragged a knife across his heir's eye, blinding it. There was a bang and Lucius' body flew into me.

I opened my eyes and found myself face down in the grass, the pain was fading but my eyes still watered with it. "Oh Draco."

* * *

I had lost Tesla once again in the confusion around the main door. Moments ago another giant had fallen. It lay sprawled in the young spring grass not far to my left. Aisling and Charlie had been mostly responsible, attacking its sunken eyes with fire. It was unlikely it was actually dead though.

I fired a few spells in the direction of a group of masks while I jogged in the shadowing overhang of one of the buttresses of this nearest castle wing. The hum of my shield had become more audible even over the din of the battle. I had been relatively lucky and had not had a direct confrontation with any enemies so far; instead I picked them off at a distance and moved long before they ever pinpointed my location. Tesla had been with me for most of the battle until the giant fell. I looked around for her but I couldn't see very far in this dark, even with the moon, though that was periodically shrouded in plumes of smoke, and if she had changed into her bird it would be impossible. So I crouched down at the end of the buttress and looked for a protected spot among the craggy boulders on the hill. I saw one and made for it. It was close to the first of the fallen giants. I attacked a patch of Death Eaters farther down the hill as the earth rumbled beneath their feet. Two fell that I could see. I cast a few more '_reducto's _at them but the vague shape of a wizard on a broomstick made a dive just above their heads and after a boom they were laying sprawled and dazed on the ground. About six red lights zoomed towards them from different directions. I turned my attentions to a different group not bothering to move this time since likely anyone paying attention to the source of my magic was now either confused as to what up and down were, unconscious, or dead. A dark figure slunk past the feet of the giant; I could only see him when he was outlined against a background explosion. I might not even have noticed except his stride was so distinctive, like a werewolf's just before the full moon, but if he was a lycanthrope he would have been transformed. It was Harry. He walked up to the ridge that had the best vantage point over this side of the castle grounds and even there in the open my eyes slid off of him. If I hadn't just watched him walk up there I wasn't sure if I would see him at all.

Then he collapsed and all the light that had bent around him earlier seemed to point him out to the entire world. He lay very still except for the heaving of his chest. I deserted my shadow and started the hike up the hill towards his prone form.

There was a growl behind me and before I knew what was going on, the ground was moist between my padded toes and I was darting in a zig-zag pattern towards the nearest cover. I made a spinning turn and leaped at my attacker from the side snapping my small jaws around their neck. The werewolf growled again and batted at me but I was in the singular position that made me nearly unreachable. I bit hard and ripped at his throat, raking my long claws down his shoulder. Then I sprung free and was headed for cover again. I slithered into a tiny hollow under a stone and a thorny shrub. The werewolf growled at the entrance but then he seemed to be taken away by the chance at easier and less dangerous prey.

I slunk out of the hole and transformed, the taste of blood still lingering in my mouth. I looked hurriedly back up the hill. Harry was still, the fight going on just twenty feet from him. I hurried his way when I caught sight of Tesla. She carried a wicked looking blade, small back facing barbs already red with blood. She knelt next to Harry and raised the blade. Her arm strained, shaking with the effort.

Instantly, I knew the connection, she was under the imperious curse again but resisting. I ran towards the pair, looking for the caster, unsure I would be able to see him, but if I could avoid attacking Tesla, I would.

There, I saw her as I breached the crest of the hill. She stood wand arm pointing rigidly straight at Tesla. The woman was of middling height and I realized I had seen her before maybe eight months ago, except then she had been the one holding the knife above a prone Harry.

I flung my wand hand in her direction, no curse came to mind but the magic hardly needed direction. A darkly colored light hit her squarely knocking her down and sending her wand flying.

Tesla stopped straining, leapt to her feet, dropped the knife and then took wing.

I ran up to Harry put a hand on his back.

He stirred, "Oh Draco," he whispered.

* * *

I rolled onto my side and put a hand gingerly to my face. My fingers met wetness and tender flesh. The wound crossed my eyebrow, my eye and my left cheek. Thin and strong arms picked me up and ran with me to another one of the castles gardens and then into a darkened room I heard a door shut and a bolt slide into place. The place smelled like damp and varnish; perhaps it was the boat house.

Vox came back to me and started patting down my pockets. "Lowest, inside, on the left." I said, directing him to the pocket where I had stored a salve that would cover the wound without letting the blood clot or the tissue start to heal. I was actually kind of proud of the potion since I was the one who invented it; unfortunately I was stuck calling it a stasis potion since I hadn't published it yet, and wasn't allowed to officially name it until then. Overall it seemed the best solution since there was a slim chance he hadn't blinded me; any of the other potions would scar the tissue and make it damn near impossible for Pomfrey to heal without complications. It was a slim chance but I rather wanted to hang onto that. I heard the cap being unscrewed and then my eye felt like it was burning again while Vox dabbed on the salve. "Be generous with it," I told him.

He finished. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. When we go back out there can you stay on my left? I can't see on that side."

"Yes, sure I'll do that." He put the lid back on and returned the container to its pocket. The numbing agent had started to work. It was regrettably slow, I would have to work on that or some idiot would come along and steal my victory by improving it. I pulled out a potion from my breast pocket. It was a pain potion; I took a mouthful and felt the effects almost instantly.

"Okay," I said and Vox pulled me to my feet.

_Author's Note: Please appreciate my devotion. I have an essay due in 14 hours and I am editing and posting this for you. Enjoy and review._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	65. The Snake

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Five: The Snake

Aisling swept down with her wings and lifted several yards higher into the air. The motion was making me slightly ill. Really the flight into war should not have been our virgin flight together, alas it was. Thrice already she had had to rescue me from a fall.

The giant flailed at us, half blinded by Aisling's last burst of fire. It stumbled and Aisling ducked back in with a second jet of flame. Now the giant was fully blinded and was staggering with the effort of keeping his balance. The other assaults against him were redoubled, and eventually the protection of his hide abandoned him. He fell with a crash; fortunately the area had been cleared in anticipation. He was at least unconscious if not dead. Aisling turned and glided over the field. My heart fell, the magical lights lit up the night sky; this should not be taking place at Hogwarts. Hogwarts should not have become a battleground.

Suddenly Aisling was diving, as straight down as I would have dared on a broom. I saw, in the moonlight and the lights of spells, a flash of red hair, at least so I thought. Then her wings snapped open just as I thought we would surely crash, but that also brought her neck up into my face. My nose crunched and my eyes watered with the pain, reminding me of a time I had taken a glancing blow from a bludger to the face. I tapped Aisling sourly on the neck but she made no indication of having noticed. Instead she launched herself back into the air. I was still confused about why we had dived in the first place, and in pain. Suddenly I was very aware. Aisling had picked up an improbably large snake. The snake had gotten the upper part of her body loose and managed to strike at me. I dodged and unseated myself, hand gripping the leather strap I had fitted around Aisling's neck, and left leg crooked over her wing joint. The snake was coiling for another strike but Aisling dropped her. The snake fell and Aisling dived. I clung desperately to the strap. But Aisling had caught the falling snake behind the head so that at least her fangs were no danger. That didn't stop the snake's tail from lashing about. I lost my hold on her wing joint when the snake hit me across the midriff. I gasped, breathing become painful. Aisling's powerful jaws clamped down on the snake's head and neck, and for good measure she released a breath of fire. While the flailing continued for a few more seconds I could tell the snake's life was gone.

Aisling swooped low and dropped the corpse in a bare spot and then turned in such a way that I could find my seat again. Unable to fix my nose myself, I wiped the blood from it with a handkerchief. What had made her attack the snake? Then I remembered the flash of red hair I had seen. Was it one of my brothers she had saved? Or was there a different motivation?

* * *

How I had gotten separated from Ginny and Luna I could not say, just that before the first clash with the Death Eaters they had been there and then after I could not find them. I screwed up my courage and continued, looking always for Hermione, Harry, or Neville. At this point I would have been happy to see Draco. I didn't though. There were plenty of allies around, Ministry or Hogwarts people, but not one of my friends. I broke through the lines to where the fighting was a little sparser. A spell hit my shield and whirled in a circle before dying, energy leeched from it. I pulled up short and spun, a spell already on my lips. I matched up with a masked opponent and beat him. I was shocked by it. I changed tactics and took cover in the lee of some boulders that had fallen from one of the ruined towers. From there I picked off enemies. Then one caught me off guard and we ended up in a true duel. I allowed myself to be pulled out of my hiding place and to the bottom of the hill. I might have been dead a hundred times over except for the twin's shield. I finally got in a lucky shot when an explosive went off at his feet. As quick as he was down I made for the nearest cover. A thud landed to my left. Then a giant snake was coiling back around to strike again.

"Stupify," I shouted and the spell landed but to no effect. The snake was either well protected by spells or magical herself. Then fear struck at my heart, my ears growing cold. Could this be Voldemort's snake? Harry had spoken of her only a few times but his description of large, intelligent, green, and dangerous all seemed suitable. She had after all attacked me while I was duly distracted. I backed away, hoping I would be able to dodge quickly enough if she struck. She did and I dove. Her fangs did not catch me but her heavy body knocked into me. I landed hard on the grass. A glint of silver lay close to my hand, it was a dropped dagger. I grabbed the hilt. And rolled over bring the dagger up and into the striking snake's eye. The blade did not go deep as far as I could tell because suddenly her body was being jerked upwards and a heavy draft of air came downwards with the beat of a dragon wing. I stared up, jaw slack and then I managed to pull my wits back together and scramble for the nearest cover.

* * *

I hated myself. Why couldn't I fight the imperious curse? Especially when it was telling me to do precisely what I did not want to do? There was no explanation for it. My mother had been the caster this time… I had seen her do it… heard her cast the spell. I couldn't remember who had done it before; I had not seen them in the library, but it felt the same. My blood had resonated with the desire to do as the caster wished and my mind had been swept away. I had barely even known what I was doing. I felt the sting of hateful tears in my eyes.

I leapt off the ground and took wing since that was marginally safer than being on the ground, though I still had to dodge the spells and the other flyers. I stayed in the air for some time, sweeping in and stealing wands or peaking heads when the opportunity rose. It was effective and I knew that I had put the end to more than a score of duels that way.

I ascended a little higher and was forced to dodge a spell. I must have risen past some sort of light source and been seen against it. The spell rose and by happenstance hit a passing broom. The tail splintered and the rider and broken broom stopped their forward acceleration. They plummeted past me even as I dove. The fallen wizard screamed, it was high like a child's and he was small. He hit another flyer on the way down and the two spiraled. I hit the hillside harder than I had intended, but I transformed without injury. Other spells were targeting the pair on the brooms, but mine was the only one meant to save them. "Arresto Momentum."

They slowed but I didn't manage to keep them in the air. They fell just twenty feet from where I had landed in a heap of limbs and painful cries. There was almost no doubt the second broom was also broken now. I ran forward but was attacked as soon as I had moved. I swirled, looking for cover, found none and instead wove a shield. It was strong but would wear quickly. I switched to offense and by luck hit one of my attackers squarely. He went down. I dodged a spell from another one of them. The two fallen wizards behind me were untangling themselves though slowly, one was sobbing. I glanced at them and saw to my horror, two very young, round faces. They were maybe fourteen at best, a boy and a girl. I moved in front of them, and attacked again. I was aided by other wizards from nearby and my two remaining attackers were swiftly incapacitated. I turned back around to the children, I called them that but I was only two years older. The broom was broken, as I had suspected, so there was no easy escape for them then.

I was about to speak but the boy pointed stuttering to my left and behind. I turned. There not two leaping bounds from me was a werewolf. Having lost his chance at a sneak attack he jumped forward, growl in his throat. I started to turn back into my bird but the children behind me stopped the transformation. My bird was not strong enough to protect them. I shifted position and cast a spell. It struck at the same instant the brute knocked me to the ground. His jaws clamped down on my shoulder. I'd have cried out except the ground forced the air from my lungs. I kicked at his belly and got him to let go.

"Lumos Maxima," I said as I sucked in air. The sudden light drove him back some, enough that I could scramble to a sitting position. "Run, hide," I said over my shoulder to the two. Then as the werewolf adjusted from his sudden blindness, two wolf-like shapes plowed into him. I looked over my shoulder, the children were gone. I transformed and flew to the nearest tree. I was unable to rise to even the lowest branches and collapsed on the ground. My shoulder ached and I couldn't imagine forcing myself back through the transformation so I let darkness take me.

* * *

I deflected another curse as I ducked behind a boulder from the ruined castle tower. Most of the fighting was closer to the entrance, here it was slightly quieter. Though as I had discovered it was entirely too easy to be attacked from behind. I had lost Ron and Luna almost as soon as we got out on Hogwarts' grounds, one fight and then the three of us had been split. I took a deep breath and arched my back so that I could look over the top of my hiding place there were three dark cloaked figures fifty feet from me. I slid around the side and lent out far enough to aim. I muttered the incantation for my favorite spell, the bat bogey hex. It had served me remarkably well in the last half hour. The dark cloud settled over the three of them and I was able to stupify the lot. I summoned their wands from slack hands and snapped them unsympathetically on the rock. I stalked further around the castle and experienced similar circumstances several more times. There was another crowded area of fighting in one of the outer courtyards, again a place where Death Eaters were trying to get into the castle. I crept onto the outer covered walkway that surrounded the area. I picked off a few Death Eaters and moved. Once I was reasonably comfortable I sprinted into a group of Hogwarts defenders. From there I enjoyed the safety of a group again.

Until, I recognized my mum. She was dueling quite handily with a Death Eater off to the side a little. Her back was to me and behind her was a second masked wizard. I rushed to her back shouting, "Stupify." I skidded to a halt in front of Mum and the Death Eater's spell left his wand. Mine found him and he collapsed.

Mum turned, exclaiming, "Ginny." The spell hit the shield the Twins had given me. It swirled around before dying. The force was startling and the shockwave carried me unexpectedly into my mother's arms.

She picked me up and hugged me in the middle of the battle field.

"You shouldn't be here."

"But I am."

She smiled, but it looked like a worried grimace; I knew she was glad somewhere deeply buried in her mother's heart.

_Author's Note: Well, it has been a long time, but here is another chapter for your enjoyment._

_Please review,_

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	66. Prophesy

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Six: Prophesy

Then I was startlingly alone. Behind me I could still feel the energy of magic, hear the rustling of robes, and the clash of steel, but all the noise, even the screams, seemed dimmed. I took one more step forward, hair standing up, ears pricked for any tiny sound that might explain why this place was out of bounds for the fighters. Another step and then one more. In my heart I knew why, this was where Voldemort stood, surveyor of the battlefield, but that did not prepare me for when the wind changed and the mist that had been lingering shifted. There he was, a tall black silhouette until seven torches flared around us. I had entered the circle with my last step. Voldemort spread his hands almost welcoming but he did not speak. With my limited skill I stretched out my mind trying to eavesdrop on his thoughts. There was nothing except continued silence. He pointed his wand behind and slightly to his left. A small figure, my height, maybe, was pulled forward and flung to the ground at his feet. Curly hair swung as she rolled over and sat up. Her hands went fearfully before her, a tiny useless shield. Voldemort did not strike immediately, his chin tilted.

"Avada Kedavra," the words were slow. I stretched a shield out, but what shield could block against the killing curse. With that thought, I had failed. The green light flashed out, at Hermione not me. A silver star twinkled before the spell struck. Hermione twisted, then lay sprawled and still on the muddy ground, a glint of tarnished silver in the locks of her hair.

A cry got snared in my throat, my hands already reaching out to take her in my arms. I couldn't let him see how painful her death was to me. There was a low chuckle from him, he knew, he had planned it this way: that we would meet alone, that she would die before me.

"You thought you could save her. How many times have you reached out to save those that you loved, reached out and failed?"

"A thousand times and never," I said, holding my voice low so that it wouldn't break and give me away. "I can have back what I love, they live with me."

"How cocksure, if so, why are your parents still dead?" It was a stinging blow.

"Are they?" I asked. A hand slipped into mine, small and smooth, and it gripped my fingers firmly. Another came to rest on my shoulder, this one larger, a tall man's hand. They were illusions. They were shadows like when I had seen them in the mirror of Erised, but Voldemort couldn't know that. His eyes widened briefly, he truly thought them real, had I really fooled him? But then he recovered and laughed again. "They can die again and this time you'll remember their agony." Two more killing curses brushed past me.

They dimmed, and then faded completely. He knew now that they had been conjurings. I knew too but that did not stop the false warmth of their fingers and hands from flowing into me. I remembered or imagined how my love for them would have been and it pounded in my heart.

"Your friends are dying out there." Voldemort said and the fog that had maintained a circle about us sank back to the ground. It revealed again the castle and the grounds and the people fighting and dying. They were spread thin, out in the overgrown grass, little groups, spread so thin that there was no time to come to someone's aid. We were on our own, and I could see back into the forest where His hoards were just waiting. How had our side become so small?

"Aren't we all stepping ever closer to death. He comes for everyone."

"Today he has come for you."

I extinguished the torches, leaving only the light of the full moon, and it's reflections off the still lingering scraps of fog. The silver around us swirled. Even prepared for the change my eyes took long seconds to adjust. "Avada Kedavra," this time the jet of green was directed at me but it missed because of the sudden change of light. Realizing his error, he brought the torches flaring back, impatient to take my life.

He aimed again.

"No," this was shouted from the small rise to our south. Neville skidded down into the circle of light, wand already aimed, seeking out his black heart. I stopped Neville from coming between us, though it was a strain. I was surprised that he was the first to notice our struggle; I shouldn't have been.

"Harry is wise to stop you there. I'd not hesitate to kill you as well. One wonders how different this scene might be had I come for you first when you were a babe." There was a pause as Voldemort studied Neville's reaction. "I see he told you then. What if you were the chosen one Neville, and Harry the one with parents in St. Mungo's?"

Neville growled and sparks left his wand as a burst of accidental magic flashed out in Voldemort's direction. Voldemort brushed aside the flame, bored by it. "Funny that you should love so deeply people that don't know who you are."

Neville gave a strangled yell. He slashed his wand in Voldemort's direction, light flashed out across the distance, fast, like dark blue lightning. Voldemort was quicker pulling up a rune shield. The two magics exploded like firecrackers. I joined Neville, defending him, because I couldn't attack Voldemort, not with magic. I had tried but all my spells fell silent against his shields.

The time sped on as we dueled. The moon slipped past the zenith of her arc and still it remained a stalemate. I was still trying to pull Neville out of the circle to send him away from death, but his feet remained planted. I wanted him there and he wanted to be there beside me.

Some little time later, I could be no judge of true time, it was still night but that was all I knew, there was a resounding feeling. It was more than sound, like standing inside a giant bell as it was struck but being unable to hear it. It was then that Voldemort started to turn over his shoulder.

"He's appar…," I started to say but a cold touch settled in a vice around the back of my neck and over my ear.

* * *

I felt the rest of the wards drop, it was a familiar feeling in a way; my uncle redid some of the ones about my house every year when I was growing up, except this was bigger. It felt like jumping into water from a great height and then all that weight filling in the void you had made. It distracted me momentarily, enough that my spellwork slowed.

"He's appar…," Harry shouted next to me. When I looked at where Voldemort should have been he was not there. I turned towards Harry feeling the beginning of triumph but that got washed away with dread. Voldemort popped into existence at Harry's shoulder, hand snapping out to snatch him. That touch was what had stopped Harry's words. Now his knees gave out.

Voldemort turned his wand on Harry and yelled, "crucio."

Harry's focus broke and I practically fell forward. Catching myself clumsily, I lunged at the two of them. Voldemort was quick though, he broke the torture long enough to send a concussing curse my direction, before he went back to his prey. I cast a shield spell and between it and the pyramid shields I was only knocked off my feet. As I sucked in a new lungful of air I stared upwards. I had thought the ground chaotic. The sky was just as much a battlefield. Charlie's Dragon swept by, only a dark shape, but the other figures were many. Some were winged creatures, but most were witches and wizards on broomsticks raining down hexes. Most looked young and lightweight. "Students?" I thought.

I coughed and sat up. It seemed Voldemort had quite forgotten me, or maybe he thought his spell had killed me. A whoosh and a savage yell streamed past. Voldemort was sprawled on his back. I didn't comprehend what had happened until the screaming flying monster came back. For the first time joy leapt up in my heart. It was the twins on a broomstick. George was doing the flying and Fred was hanging upside from his knees, dispensing a variety of doom and destruction by the looks of the sooty marks on his face and hands. As they passed Fred somersaulted out of the air and landed neatly on his feet, wand in hand. George zoomed away, weaving and dodging already pulling something out of his sack.

Voldemort was back on his feet.

* * *

Pain ebbed as his spell broke off but he had shoved his thoughts on me, his giddiness at toying with me. As my vision cleared I understood why he had let go of me. Fred had joined Neville and now they were attacking again.

I should have remained on the ground and worked my spells from there, because when I stood Voldemort remembered I was still a threat while not being tortured. I was still too close and his arm snaked out snatching my wrist. I twisted away, fading like the fog and rematerializing farther away. The suddenness of pain had shocked me last time, now the wall was rebuilt and well defended.

"This is over now, Potter," he snarled. He was facing me, wand pointed at my heart. I steeled myself, fully prepared for the killing curse, striking out at me again. Would I even try to dodge this time? I can't die. The thought, absurd as it was, bubbled through me making my arms and legs tingle. Then he apparated again. I changed position to keep the trick from working but then I realized that was not what he was doing. There he was next to Neville wand pressed into his shoulder, above his heart. Fred was flung backwards and Neville shoved to the ground. This time I could save him. But Voldemort had already spoken the words, "Avada Kedavra."

Neville fell, a flash of green, a sparkle of silver, then he was gone like Hermione. I swallowed back my guilt. I had brought them to this.

Before I could take a step he had turned his wand on Fred, who was still getting to his feet. "Avada Kedavra." Green flash, silver sparkle and Fred collapsed. Voldemort apparated a few feet away as I went to my friends. My heart pounded sorely and I tried not to choke on tears as I looked down at the three of them, Neville and Fred at my feet, Hermione not much further away. They shouldn't have been here; I was supposed to be here alone. I had wanted to come alone. My life given for theirs as it had been written. She had an old tarnished diadem in her hair, Neville was clutching the handle of a yellow and black enameled cup, and Fred's fist was closed around something on a golden chain. What were these things? Where had they come from?

Voldemort took his chance thinking my distraction was from grief not curiosity. "Avada Kedavra," this time his shout was full of his triumph. I frowned. His spell hit over my heart and the thing that always felt like it was going to rip away when he opened the link, left me. At my feet, seeming asleep was a toddler with black hair, and a sweet-looking round face.

I peered down at the child. 'What _was_ this?' I didn't understand. Voldemort stepped ever closer trying to understand why I had not died. For that matter so was I. I felt something scurrying around in my head. It was faint. I pushed it away easily, Voldemort's eyes grew wide. Soon he was standing, towering, above me.

He looked down, fear growing in his expression. I still didn't understand the significance of the objects or why he was now so afraid. "Avada Kedavra," he screamed again. The light flashed. Was this what my parents saw? It hit me again; it was cold. He repeated the spell desperately.

"Why aren't you dead?" he screeched.

"Isn't that me there?" I said, "That was me when you attacked my family and you've finished that task now. You can't kill me because you have already."

A wooden handle shaped itself in my hand, my index finger curled around it feeling a give. I swung my arm up, staring down the barrel at Voldemort. A muggle gun glinted dully in my grip. I was a little surprised, but I squeezed the trigger. A terrible bang issued forth and a wound spilled blood onto his black cloak. At last I saw horror in his face, and fear, but no regret. I don't know how I could have hoped for it but I did. His body crumpled. I dropped the weapon I had conjured. The metal had felt freezing and terrible. I couldn't have attacked him with magic, I had still believed him stronger than me, but why a gun? I asked, because he was afraid of it? Because he believed it could kill him, like Fred had said?

Was he dead? Not just gone, ready to rise again when servant, father, and foe gave up their flesh? Could he be dead?

Around me the battle went on. People still fought desperately, with magic or teeth and nails when their wands were taken. They didn't know. No one had been watching and no one knew that it was over. Voldemort still breathed, his chest moving ever so faintly. I knew his life would flee; he would die as he had dreaded. The child still lay at my feet. I bent down, my hand extended cautiously. I touched his skin; it was cool. He was dead. Like I had said Voldemort had killed me. At least he had killed the life I would have had. I was not this child. He would not have grown up to be me.

Still I felt as if I should be the only one to have seen him. I picked him up wrapped in his blanket and fled the battlefield. I shifted into a damp graveyard. I looked out beyond the fence to see houses in the mist. Some even had warm yellow lights in the windows. Then I looked down at the markers at my feet. My parents' names were there with their dates of birth. The date of their death was there too. The day one Harry Potter died and the day one lived.

I read the inscription the was cut into the white marble and the words resounded in me.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

I laid the child down and closed my eyes. I let go of wishing none of this had happened. I said goodbye to Lily and James and then the little boy. When I opened my eyes he was gone. I put a small white stone atop the grave-marker and left. I would not return.

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter._


	67. Victory

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Victory

I came back to the field below the ruined castle of Hogwarts, back to where I had stood before. The scene had not changed but then I had not been gone for long. My hand reached out and brushed the hair off Neville's forehead. Voldemort's chest fell slowly one last time.

"That was bloody awful," said Fred as he sat up, a hand to his temple. I lurched back from him. "Damn it," he reached out and snatched at thin air, but then in his hand was one of the six small pyramids that had been shielding him. One of its faces was cracked. "They're all like that!" He muttered something and tugged at an earring. The other five pyramids crashed into the ground their velocity half burying them in the soft soil. "Harry," he finally realized that I was sitting quite dumbstruck before him. I was transfixed not by the pyramids but by the locket that now rested against his chest. An ornate letter S was the only decoration. He looked down at it and then clicked it open, there was nothing inside.

Neville's eyes popped open and he sat bolt upright wand rising in a sweep so fast it nearly took out my eye. "What?" he said.

"It's over."

"Then why is the fighting going on still?"

I sighed.

"Hey Neville, are the pyramids for your shield cracked too?" Fred was still turning his over in his hand. Neville took the tiny center out of his pocket and whispered something, blushing ever so slightly as he did. Six triangles tried to bury themselves in the dirt. He dug one out. Sure enough one face was cracked.

"What did he hit us with?" Fred mused.

I wasn't sure I could say it aloud.

Neville saved me though, "the killing curse wasn't it? He killed a little bit of himself each time don't you think?"

Fred pursed his lips and clicked the locket shut again.

At last Hermione stirred and I leaped to her side. I wanted to cry at the pain she had suffered during that terrible night. Strangely it was she who pulled me into her arms, "Shh," she whispered, "he did you more harm than he did me. That was his intention all along."

I pulled away from her. "I'm glad you're here." It was an apology.

"It's over." She smiled broadly, even if there were still tears in her eyes. She pointed her arm straight up and a whiz of colored light shot upwards and exploded across the night sky.

I smiled at the display and scrambled to my feet and offered my hand. She took it and stood unsteadily.

I stared upwards again at the night sky and the ongoing display of fireworks. Then my attention was brought back again by two dark robed figures. They were not Death Eaters, or else they had lost their masks. The two passed very close to us and studied the body that was a few feet from us. Then their voices exploded into what had been relative silence.

"He-who-must-not-be-named is dead!" They repeated it over and over. "You-know-who is dead!" The shout was taken up by those near to us. Slowly it spread. With the cry went victory. His followers were laying down arms or apparating, still hoping for mercy or escape.

* * *

Harry's hand was impossibly cold in mine. I turned into his shoulder and put my arms around his neck. Looking into his upturned face, it seemed remarkably neutral. Shouldn't he be smiling? It was over. My heart felt like it was floating somewhere in my chest, fairly leaping. I should have been off the ground as light as I felt. Then my heart sank. Harry pulled lose and walked up the rise. He stood there, still staring at the fireworks as if he had never seen something so bright and wonderful.

I watched a man stride to the base of the hill and then hike wearily to the top. In the poor light, I couldn't tell who it was.

* * *

My gaze remained on the everlasting fireworks, the display had been joined by some of Fred and George's special blasts of color, but in my peripheral vision I saw the man approach my standing place.

"Hello, Minister." Scrimgeor looked haggard, lion's mane hair knotted and clothing dingy.

"Mr. Potter, I wish to extend my personal gratitude. Your actions went beyond what any civilian, rightly any wizard would do. And while we have had our disagreements and you have broken many of our laws I wish to pardon you fully; for you have rendered us a great service." He huffed, his exhaustion clear.

I stayed where I was. He stepped closer pushing his hand forward to take mine then at the last step he shifted, wand slashing forward. The incantation was silent to my ears though I saw his mouth move. A telltale green burst left the tip. It struck with the same force as Voldemort's spell had. I stepped sideways and watched a shadow fall to the ground slightly to my left. I looked down at myself for the second time that night. Before I could turn back to the minister, leathery wings separated us.

Charlie leapt from the back of his dragon, pinning the minister at wand point. He stepped forward aggressively, "You will not try that again." The dragon beat her wings and the minister, backing hurriedly away tripped and fell. Other aurors were converging on the hill. The shadow that had slipped from me melted away. I had performed that trick so many times in the corridors of the school it hardly seemed a trick any longer. Wands were pointed at Charlie, the dragon, and me.

"It's over, let the fighting end," Charlie's voice was grief stricken. "He died for you. This he does not deserve." I wondered if he had fallen for the crumpled image like the minister and so many others had.

The minister groaned and sat up, "by the end of the year, he'll be the next Dark Lord, he must die today or this will continue the rest of our lives." He gestured about him. The remains of the battle evident even in the poor light. I dared not think of the heaps as corpses for hope that all my loved ones were still alive. The aurors shifted uncomfortably, their hearts were changing with the gratitude they felt for me. The minister flicked his wand again. The dragon bobbed her head and snapped the thin stick between her teeth. Scrimgeor scooted down the hill a few feet, panicked now. He signaled with a nod to the others and they tried to firm themselves for the attack.

Charlie beat them to it though. His voice rang out, "I am Dragon Friend, and you will not hurt Harry Potter." It was the first time he had announced the fact to anyone except for us. I wasn't even sure if his family knew, the change had happened so recently.

The small circle were stunned enough to step back. One even dropped his wand and bowed staying bent and trembling. The others shot him looks and then slowly one by one they too stowed wands and bowed. Some bent lower than others but all had lowered their eyes to the ground.

* * *

I swallowed uncertainly as eight older, and likely wiser men bowed to me. The minister stood and even bent his head. We stood, each unsure of ourselves for several minutes. Then Scrimgeor leapt, a flash of silver in his hand. Before I had so much as twitched, my dragon swung down her great head and curled in one wing around him. When she unfurled, he was gone.

The aurors looked wide eyed at me, their trembling becoming more obvious. Their gazes flickered upward at the Dragon. Aisling's eyes rolled and her head shook, her lip was pulled back from her fangs; with the tilt of her wings and the cock of her head, she looked as menacing as a horntail. I held up a hand to her and Aisling tucked her nose into my palm, scalding breath sweeping over my hand and arm.

It was only then that I turned to look for Harry. I had figured out his secret at last. He was like Aisling, like all dragons. He existed with magic, as a part of it. He was still Harry Potter, but his body was barely more than illusion now. It was still solid, certainly, with the same force as any well done spell, but still illusion. He smiled at me, and it seemed like a brave face thrown up before uncertainty.

Then he inclined his head, gracefully, "Greetings Friend." It had the same welcome in it that Aisling had given me when we shared blood. I wondered if magic itself was inviting me in.

I turned and with shaking voice ordered, "Organize yourselves and stop this battle, help the injured, arrest those who resist, do as needs be done." They bobbed lower in their bows and ran in different directions. Though for that it seemed each was about a task that would speed us to the end.

* * *

As Charlie turned back to the aurors, Aisling curved her neck around tucked her head. I bowed deeply to her. Then I swept down with wings and feathers and was off. I blew across the field searching, fear collecting in my heart at every person I passed. Besides Hermione, Neville, Charlie, and Fred, I knew not whether my friends lived. Then I saw red hair. I tumbled from the wind in my haste.

It was Molly. I stepped up to her and embraced her like a son his mother so glad was I that she lived. "I'm sorry," I said.

"It's over," she whispered back and held me all the tighter.

"Mum," it was Ginny's voice, trembling. Molly let go of me, gave a sob and opened her arms to her only daughter. Within moments the rest of the red-headed family had gathered together. Fred paused and touched my shoulder tenderly before joining the others. The golden chain showed at his collar but the locket was tucked beneath his shirt, out of sight. They all held each other at arm's length to examine wounds and weariness. Each had their injuries, Arthur was missing the top of his left ear, Percy had a burn across his upper arm, and Ron had sprained his ankle and held his arm awkwardly. Bill already had a bandage on his side, it was bloody, but he hardly seemed to notice it as he rejoiced with his family. The twins were the only ones without so much as a scratch, but then their clothes were sooty and ripped. Fred looked at me again, secrets in his stare.

"Charlie? Where's Charlie?" Molly looked around desperately.

"It's okay, mum," said George, "He's out seeing an end to this. The minister is dead."

"I've got to go, they'll need the rest of us…" said Arthur.

Molly held his sleeve, refusal in the set of her mouth. "We need you."

I walked away. Everywhere people moved with a strange energy as they looked for their loved ones among the dead and the living. They moved quickly towards each living person about them, hope rising, and then they slowed as they approached each corpse, dreading.

Off in the distance I noticed a cluster of leather wings and skeletal flanks. Five or six thestrals stood in a herd, vaguely to my left; I turned their way, eager to meet them again. Why I would be I couldn't say, just that for being omens of death, they were rather consoling. I stepped between their bodies and came to Luna. She knelt in the mud next to the body of an older man dressed in conspicuously green robes. His eyes were closed and his hands folded gently across his chest, as if he had already undergone preparation for burial. Clasped in his hands were his wand, made of an almost white wood, and a bouquet of violets.

"Hello Harry."

"Hello Luna," I could speak no condolences.

"Violets for remembrance," she smiled weakly, "He's gone to see mother." She stood carefully, steadying herself with a hand outstretched to a boney neck. Her eyes had not left his face to even see if it was really me she had sensed at her shoulder.

The thestral next to her lifted his head and nuzzled into the nape of her neck. She laughed at the tickle, reached up and behind her to stroke the soft nose. I scratched the withers of the one next to me; it turned its head and nibbled at my shirt hem or more likely licked at the blood there.

"Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes."

She turned and walked away from the body of her father. Dead things meant little to her, his ideas were the important things for her to preserve now. She took a pair of spectacles out of her pocket and walked up towards the remains of the castle gate.

I looked down at the man who had given me unwavering support from the start. Then I too turned and left.


	68. All Safe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Eight: All Safe

Fireworks continued over our heads, sparkling stunningly, spinning in impossible wheels, or bursting with whizzes and whistles. Draco squeezed my elbow, stopped and sank onto what appeared to be the keystone from a collapsed arch. He unbuttoned his coat, and pulled out a vial of potion, hand fairly trembling. The liquid was dark red and thick, and he downed the dose though he grimaced with the taste or texture. I would have offered him my blood but we both knew I had none to spare if I was to continue walking. He was still bleeding, from a long gash across his thigh and another across his back. The others had scabbed over. The one that crossed his eye had formed a firm patch with the potion and it looked worse than any scab would. He looked up, squinting, I hoped he wasn't blinded in that eye, (he had made no mention of it, though that was if he knew himself,) reached out his hand. I stepped closer to him and helped him rise. The gash must have made bearing weight on that leg painful. He had magicked a tourniquet above the wound, and covered it with a bandage but he had no training to do else for it. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, conscious of my own wounds. I smiled with half my mouth keeping the cut across my lips from splitting again. I had kept the worst of my injuries from him hidden in my dark loose clothing. I had splinted my leg while he was unconscious and now we walked so slowly he could hardly tell I was limping. The bone would knit back much quicker than his would, though the process was slower since I had suffered blood-loss.

"I'm fine," I reassured him letting him lean heavily on me.

We made it another fraction of the way around the castle's outer courtyards before he had to stop and rest again. I was no less grateful for the reprieve and while he eased his leg I surreptitiously retied the bindings on my splint. Just as he and I were readying ourselves to continue a shadow stepped out through one of the few standing arches around the cobbled space. It was the first other upright figure we had seen since the fighting had ended. The others in this area had either fallen to the other vampires, or when the giants came through. Some may still have lived but we had not the strength to help them. Draco drew his wand, held it shaking before him. The figure came out of the shadow and became Severus. Draco didn't move and his wand stayed out, he was still wary enough then, I had been afraid he was starting to fade.

Severus crossed to us. "Merlin, sit him down again," his voice was quick. Then he glanced at me, "you should yourself." I did easing Draco down onto the bench we had just vacated.

"Don't touch me," Draco said, stabbing his wand in Severus' direction.

"You wish confirmation of who I am. Very well, I gave you your first cauldron."

"That's hardly a secret."

"Engraved under the lip is the date that I was named your godfather."

"I'm sorry, we were tricked earlier."

He only nodded and pulled out a vial this one also filled with dark red liquid.

"I've already had a dose, several actually," Draco protested.

Snape arched an eyebrow, pushed Draco's shoulder so he was forced to lean back. Draco gasped sharply, "No," straining forward.

"Merlin," cursed Snape. He went to his godson's back. "Well that looks clean enough a wound."

He flicked his wand and Draco hissed something unrepeatable. "What was that?"

"A little cleaning spell, Morgan le Fey knows what dirt you'd gotten into it." He cast a second spell and the knife slice across Draco's lower back knitted together like it had never been. "I cannot do the same for the other. Spell wounds aren't so tidy as those made by steel. Up you get, the fighting is done now." Snape fairly ignored the damage to Draco's face, perhaps he was as fearful of him being blind as I was.

"Harry did it?" Draco breathed; it was a question as well as a dear and desperate wish.

"I don't know, but there are fireworks in the sky and not the Dark Mark. I think that's sign enough. People are laying down their wands and some even capering. Fools hardly know that even with Him gone life for most has changed very little."

I had been silent but I spoke then, "I think it's going to change a lot."

* * *

Hermione froze where she was, watching Harry climb the hill, hands clasped close to her chest. She had taken the diadem out of her hair to examine it and now held it in her fist. I stepped closer to her, though my eyes were also on Harry. A shadowy figure came up from the far side of the slope and stood a few feet away from him. Seconds passed maybe a minute, Hermione lowered her hand reached back for mine. "Hey," I said, "It's okay."

She didn't say a word just turned into my shoulder and cried. I patted her back awkwardly and kept a firm and hopefully reassuring grip on her hand. But always my gaze was on Harry. I tensed as the man stepped forward, though it was to shake his hand. Then it wasn't. Spell-light flashed green and a shadow sank. I shifted my weight to go up there when I saw Harry standing again as politely bored as he ever was when things like that happened to him.

Hermione had felt me move and she stopped snuffling long enough to look back up the hill. "What?"

"Nothing, Charlie's Dragon just landed and it scared me is all. I'll not ever get used to that." I was lucky that Aisling had landed just then. I didn't want to tell Hermione that another attempt on Harry's life had been made.

"I'm sorry, Neville, I feel like… I don't know." Admitting incomprehension was a large step for her.

"Do any of us…" I asked, watching Harry morph and take off as a bird.

She rubbed at her eyes. "Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder; Ron isn't much for that kind of thing."

"You should go find him."

"You think he's here."

"I think it would take more than Voldemort to keep him away from you."

"Molly might have managed it." She smiled weakly. "He'll be okay, right?" Her glance up the hill said Harry not Ron.

I wasn't sure I could answer her honestly. I opened my mouth, closed it. She frowned. "Too vague, isn't it?" She smiled. I nodded and she stretched up to kiss my cheek, then she turned and left the space and I was alone.

Witches and wizards moved in the distance but for their own secret reasons none had come close to where Voldemort lay, and where I currently stood. At my feet was the yellow and black cup that I had woken to find in my hand. The small badgers that decorated either side of it held impossible details. I picked it up; it was very light, as if the inside had been corroded leaving only the shell of the thing. I didn't know what the thing meant but I pocketed it anyway and left the shallow valley where we might have died.

Seeing no point in going away from the castle, I turned towards its doors, thoughts turning at last to Tesla. After she had shaken off the effects of the imperious curse she had leapt back into the battle and been pulled away from my side. During the fight I had not had the time to do more than react. I had rescued her so that I could rescue Harry from her. Now I had to wonder why she had been so vulnerable to the curse. It was cruel to think that way; during fourth year I had been as weak against it, submitting utterly to the one casting the spell. Still I could not help but wonder if her weakness came from a different place. Maybe she did really want harm for Harry; that was why it was easy for them to crack her shell and force her to act on that want. Maybe she really was weak-willed. I resolved to find a different theory, though I could not fathom another reason.

I saw a group of redheads in the distance but did not turn towards them.

"Hello Neville," said a voice from my right. I turned towards the person.

"Luna," I said surprised. I would have expected her locked at Grimmauld Place; then again she was a force in her own right: unpredictable, and formidable just for that. "I'm glad to see you."

"And I you."

"Have you seen Tesla?"

"No, not this whole time."

"Then maybe her Animagus form? A white bird with a black crest and a long beak…"

"No," she said, looking back towards the expanse of grounds as if she might make out that figure. It wasn't likely even with the full moon still up.

I looked more carefully at her; she was whole, though small trickles of blood still oozed in places from minor cuts. None needed immediate attention. "Can you help me find her?"

"Certainly." She lit her wand.

"We weren't far from the greenhouses when I saw her last."

"Well let's go that way then." She reached out for my hand and pulled me in the direction of the castle gardens. Suddenly I was reluctant to search. She must have felt my slowness because she offered up the words, "you'll regret not looking more."

'Yes, I would.' The moon was finally dipping and maybe the sun was rising because it didn't seem so dark. Still we needed our wand-light to keep from stumbling. How we had done it during the fight was unimaginable now.

We reached the green houses and cast our lights about trying to keep to a grid search. Back and forth we went, in an expanding arc. We came to several bodies. The first was gruesomely injured, clearly from falling a great distance, off a broomstick maybe. We came upon two more like that and then we saw the large indentations in the soft ground. This was where some of the giants had come through. Luna checked their pulses with a sure hand. Each time she stood before shaking her head. Dead, all three. Our arc expanded. We found a heap of wizards. Two were almost certainly dead, but one was unconscious and the fourth groaned as I checked him for signs of life.

Luna knelt hurriedly next to me, "Easy, I'll summon help for you but I don't know how fast someone can come… I can stupify you, it might be less painful…" His hand tightened and he groaned again.

"Do it," I said standing. She cast the spell and then another that shot the height of a Quidditch goal post and then flashed red white red white red white.

We walked on. "You'd be a good doctor, you're so calm with them. I was nearly sick after we saw the first one."

"No, it's horrible what people do to each other, I couldn't stand it. Ginny could if she were interested in that kind of work." I nodded passing my light across my path.

Another light bobbed up ahead. I realized it was getting lighter now. A large shadow held the light, its arms waved.

"'Lo, there," the voice was gruff.

"Hagrid," I called back and turned in his direction, breaking the pattern of our search. He didn't say anything more until we stood in the glow of his lantern. His pink umbrella hung from his wrist.

"Well it looks like you two made it out okay…"

"Yeah, you too." His half-giant heritage had probably paid off during the fighting since it would make him more or less impervious to average spell-work. I took a second look at his garb. He had fashioned a sling out of a piece of canvas and long delicate black feathers shivered in the faint breeze. "What's in the sling Hagrid?"

"Oh, I found her, poor bird, don't know how she got 'ere." He carefully took off the sling and cradled the creature's weight in one of his big hands.

The cloth fell away. "Merlin, Tesla," I cried. I reached out and relieved him of her weight and held her close to my chest.

"An animagus, didn't know you kids had managed that. Gentle now, she'll be alright with a little medical attention. 'Ere," he retied the sling so that she slept at my side. "She's not bleedin' an'more."

I smiled weakly, though I knew I was crying as I stroked her feathers.

"Go on, get back to the castle wit' her."

Luna pulled on my elbow and I turned that way.

* * *

The kids disappeared into the semi-darkness. I whistled to Fang and he came back to my side. The day was lightening and the moon was almost gone. A dog growled nearby and Fang's hackles rose though he retreated to the opposite side of me before he growled back, the coward.

I walked towards the sound, umbrella in hand, lantern raised. Eyes glowed before two large dog shapes morphed out of the night.

"Hey Sirius," I said. I stepped closer to the other form knowing it was Remus still transformed. Remus had a gash across his shoulder and three puncture wounds on his hind leg. Those were clotted but the gash was still bleeding freely. I pulled out a clean towel and knelt to put pressure on it. Remus' eye snapped open and then his jaws snapped in my direction. Sirius was there first, teeth barred growl in his throat, threat and comfort. The werewolf made several more attempts to get away, even getting his back feet under his hips and trying to worm free. Sirius countered every one of his moves. We struggled like that for maybe half an hour until the moon gave up the sky and sank beyond the horizon. Bones reshaped themselves and skin retracted the shaggy coat until bone-thin and gentle Remus sat bracing himself against the ground. Sirius was faster through the change and held his shoulders firmly enough that Remus wouldn't fall.

"Hey," Sirius said.

"I didn't bite you, did I Hagrid?" Remus sounded absolutely disgusted with himself, taking the cloth from my hand and dabbing gently at his wound.

"No, wouldn't 'ave mattered if you had." It was a small lie, but it might make him feel better.

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah, maybe." They struggled to their feet, "no." He clung to Sirius' shoulder all weight off of his right foot. Not the leg with the puncture wounds…

"Hagrid, can you carry him?"

"Sure."

Remus frowned but allowed it. I took a stride. Sirius staggered after me. "Wait, Sirius, you can't walk on that leg. _Imobilus Jambe_, _levicorpus." _Sirius squawked tried to right himself and gave up. "If you'd conjured me a stretcher I'd have done you the same courtesy."

Sirius crossed his arms. "Everyone always said I was the immature one, I think they got that one backward."

"So says the wizard who forgot he had a wand." Sirius stuck his tongue out.

They bickered most of the way back to the castle, sometimes like children and sometimes like an old married couple, bringing up grudges that didn't really matter to them but was something to throw back. The way they carried on I'd think it was a pain-coping mechanism, and perhaps it was.

We bypassed the ministry and went straight for the infirmary ward. It was still wholly intact and relatively empty. A blessing for these two since the last thing I heard Sirius was still a wanted man, and Remus might not have been any better off without Dumbledore's protection. I laid Remus out on a bed and went to notify Madame Pomfrey of their arrival.

* * *

Remus lowered me to the ground in front the chair that was set next to his bed. I levered myself into it positioning my hip so as to relieve my injured leg. Hagrid had gone off to find the mediwitch and turn her attentions to us if she was not occupied with more important matters. I slouched in the seat finding myself unexpectedly exhausted. I closed my eyes temporarily.

When I woke the drapes had been pulled about the beds. I was still in the chair but Remus had obviously been seen to, he was in a hospital robe and deeply asleep. Peaceful in his rest the way he normally was not; that suggested Madame Pomfrey had drugged him with dreamless sleep potion.

"Ah Mister Black," the voice made me jump into my transformation. The same sharp voice and a hand on my shoulder arrested the movement. "Don't you dare transform again, you shouldn't have done it the first time." I blushed; it was Pomfrey who had snuck up on me. She let me go and I straightened to my full height which was considerably greater than hers. "Bed," she demanded and I obeyed.

_Author's Note: I'll be gone for about a week and a half. One more chapter and an epilogue. Thanks for reading my work and please review; it means a lot to me and every writer._

_Thank you,_

_Shifted Illusions_


	69. Lullaby

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

**Half-Blood Blessing**

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Lullaby

I came to the doorway wreathed in shadow, imagining myself as little more than ghostly. Beds lined the space in orderly pairs and house elves carried linens back and forth. Not every bed was occupied, but more than Pomfrey normally had. The Weasley family was crowded around a bed though; none of them had needed more than about ten minutes of the mediwitch's time. Likely they were waiting to be allowed to visit some of the other occupied beds. Even Percy was there. He shifted and revealed that Hermione was among them and while she was pale, and in a hospital gown, she was not visibly harmed. She lifted something dark to her mouth: chocolate. I almost smiled wondering if she had requested it or if Madame Pomfrey had forced it on her.

I could see none of my other friends in the other beds, though a few classmates slept amongst the white linen sheets. Most of them were old DA members.

I remained undetected as I crossed the room; the magic was loose enough that if someone had looked for me I would have been spotted. I bypassed a few single curtained beds until I came to a pair that had been closed off together. A gap had been left by someone's exit and I slipped through. Remus and Sirius were both sleeping and healed. I didn't disturb them and left instead brushing the curtain with my arm. If my intention was to go unnoticed here I was being very careless, if I wanted to be found then it seemed I might have to knock something over. But I was of two minds about it. I wanted to see that my friends were at last safe but I didn't want to talk, not really. Not after what had happened.

I reached the end of the ward without seeing anyone else and entered the hallway that led into the private rooms, generally reserved for long term care and therefore rarely used. Today the first was being used; I slipped through the door. Neville was asleep in the bed and a basket lined with blankets was tucked into his side. Tesla was curled into it in her bird form. I was shocked however to see an elderly woman keeping vigil over his bed. Her hair was tucked into a bun but unlike McGonagall's, wisps of grey hair had escaped the binding. From the back of her chair hung a worn velvet hat with a stuffed and tatty vulture pinned to it. I recognized the woman as Neville's grandmother. I went back through the door without bothering to open it this time.

The next room was also occupied. It had two beds crammed into the space that normally only had one. Draco and Vox were also asleep and while both were pale I couldn't be sure if that was their normal color or not… the light in the hospital ward always blanched everyone's complexion.

"Harry." The voice spooked me enough that I shoved myself into true invisibility. Severus was haunting the other empty corner of the room and it was clearly he who had spotted me. I stepped out of the shadows confessing my presence to the wakeful occupant.

"Severus."

"He is gone now."

"Yes, he is no more than flesh and bone and blood."

"And you?"

"He killed me, Severus. There's a boy buried with his parents in Godric's Hollow." I didn't know why I was confiding that fact to him.

"So who stands here if Harry Potter is dead?"

"It wasn't Harry Potter I buried; it was James and Lily's son."

Severus rose and took several steps towards me. He even laid a hand on my shoulder. At least he tried to; his hand sunk through my collar.

* * *

I was shocked and withdrew my hand swiftly. "Mr. Potter, talking to ghosts gives me chills, I'd rather you bring your body next time." It was unnecessarily snide and for the first time in years it cracked his cool composure, which was another shock.

"I can't bring it back."

"Life given for breath. Take heed, for once there was a man who breathed like the dragons, was a shadow in light and shone in the darkness, filled his lungs with water and drank air. Fire froze, ice burned. Never sleeping, always dreaming, he walked this world as the shadow man and he could make all things be."

Harry looked at me. "Draco recited the first part of that for me a long time ago. He didn't know all of what you've just told me."

"That bit isn't even the whole of it. It was my mother's favorite lullaby." A flash of mischief crossed his face. "Most wizards only hear the story once, if they even hear it at all. Almost none hear all of it since most of it has been lost, but she sang it to me a hundred times. She always said it was a promise."

"The shadow man was magic personified, wasn't he?"

"Yes, I think he must have been." I drew in a breath, wondering if I should share with him what I knew. "The shadow man, the one in the lullaby because I think there have been many, was once a human with barely more talent than a squib, but he fell in love with wonder and with magic. He discovered things no one had ever known, he made friends of fairies, pixies, mermaids, dragons, and drakes, but also with ordinary animals. He learned their languages and their myths. With each secret his imagination grew and magic started to seep into his thoughts and fill them up, buoying them, making them last. Fantastic things grew, thrived around him. Ideas lived, even breathed. Soon he was his own thoughts, his body wasted away, and his mind wrapped itself in illusion."

"If this man was real what happened to him?"

"He was real. He made the impossible real, the extraordinary normal, and eventually he grew bored. Then magic deserted him and because his body was already gone, he died."

"What was his purpose?"

"Why did he exist? Why would magic choose him, make him a shadow man, is that what you mean?" Harry's eyes narrowed. Neither question was quite the right one but I answered as best I could. "I don't know, to balance out the world, to throw it into chaos, to save it, to destroy it. Magic _is_. It needs no purpose, no reason."

"Do you think that is what I am, a shadow man?"

"It is a possibility, more likely than Half-Blood Curse anyway, though you probably have that too. I expect Voldemort had the curse as well for all that it matters now."

He was silent for a time, then his gaze dropped. "I think I need to go away for a while."

"Find something that makes you happy. And live, Harry."

* * *

I woke in the hospital room where I had gone to sleep, but for some reason it seemed far too early for the potion to have worn off. Tesla was still curled into the basket at my side; she had not stirred. I turned from my side. My Gran sat slumped in the chair. She was also asleep. I slipped out from the sheets. My feet set down on the cold floor and I almost reconsidered getting up but something thick in the air urged me on. I went to the door, opened it onto the hallway. A small dark haired figure was retreating from the corridor. I followed but my tongue stuck in my mouth. Harry looked back over his shoulder. Why did he look confused?

He continued across the ward. I tracked him halfway but he didn't turn back or waver from his path towards the door. The Weasleys watched him, Hermione even leaping to her feet, running to him to try and catch his sleeve. I started to run to him too. He shot us looks and was out the door like a wisp of smoke up a chimney.

We stopped, standing barefoot and in our hospital gowns that draped to our knees. We knew he was gone.

The End

_Author's Note: There will be an epilogue posted for this, hopefully in the next week. I'm sorry it took so long for me to post this; I wanted it to be just right. I hope you liked it._

_Thank you for reading my work,_

_Shifted Illusions_


End file.
